


Between Heaven and Hell

by cakeengland



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: (i use the term apprentice sparingly since they aren't asra's apprentice in this au), Angels and Demons AU, Don't Worry About It, Don't copy to another site, F/M, MC is human, Rating May Change, also faust and the other familiars are a race of shapeshifters called cealians, also the major character death is typical to canon (and literally the plot hook), angel!asra, angel!nadia, another apprentice cameos, basically they have both a human and animal form, characters and relationship tags will change as things are introduced, demon!julian, demon!portia, fallen angel!muriel, hello amelianne, mc/apprentice is cis female, tags will be updated in future to prevent story spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeengland/pseuds/cakeengland
Summary: Faust's excursion into Vesuvia was to find herbs for Asra. What she found instead was a human dying of the plague. As it turns out, Asra might be just as happy with that result.However, deep beneath the ground of Hell itself, evil lurks. A storm is brewing. Malevolent forces are in motion. And without this human magician, neither Elysium nor Hell stands a chance of surviving.





	1. A Fateful Meeting

By all means, it was a normal day in Vesuvia. Maybe a bit overcast, but that was hardly something to make a fuss about, at least in Faust’s opinion. There was no rain, after all, and definitely no snow.

Asra had asked her to collect some herbs that grew in street cracks on Earth, along with her daily report. Honestly, she’d been reluctant to at first. She didn’t normally venture into the city streets, mostly due to the fact she was really sick of people screaming and running away when they saw the purple snake with glowing red eyes. Then Asra had said they could have blue-tongued skink for dinner if she did, and well, that was the end of that.

She had just escaped the marketplace (if her tail was never stepped on again it’d be too soon), currently slithering along a dark, dreary-looking side street. This stupid herb of Asra’s liked to grow in cool, damp places, so she figured the city alleyways would be the perfect place to look.

So focused on her search, Faust took no notice of the hooded figure climbing the steps of the building behind her until they started violently coughing. Interest piqued, Faust turned her head just in time to see the figure throw back their hood, pale pink hair falling to their shoulders in waves, though she couldn’t make out any other details.

“Of course I had to catch a cold,” the figure mumbled as the coughing subsided, fiddling with the keys to the door. Their voice sounded raspy, but still feminine, but Faust figured that didn’t mean much by itself. After all, Asra’s voice was masculine, but he wasn’t male.

Still, the stranger didn’t hold Faust’s attention for long, and she turned back to her search, tongue flicking out to try and scent the elusive herb. Instead, she caught a whiff of something much more sickly, causing Faust’s whole body to freeze as she processed this information.

_ Death.  _ The nauseating scent of death clung to the stranger like a shroud.

Faust shook herself out of her trance as the stranger disappeared into the building, the sound of the door shutting behind them ringing like a gong in Faust’s mind. Even though they were gone, their presence lingered, that repugnant scent surrounding her like a thick, toxic fog. The herb was forgotten as only one thought raced through Faust’s mind.  _ Have to tell Asra! _

She looked up at the sky, the invisible barrier that separated Earth from Elysium. Had the clouds been dark and heavy this whole time? It felt like an ill omen, and anxiety gripped Faust like a vice. No, she couldn’t stay here any longer. Time to go home.

* * *

Annoyance filled Faust as she stepped into the small cottage where she and Asra lived. Without even taking a step, she could sense the distinct lack of Asra-ness, meaning her bonded had disappeared again. Really, at this rate she was going to have to tie him down whenever she went to Earth.

She stopped to consider this thought. She had fingers and opposable thumbs in her human form. She could do that.

Wait, no, Faust was on a mission. She had plenty of time to muse on the logistics of tying Asra down  _ after  _ she’d located the elusive angel and told him about the human who reeked of death. But where  _ was  _ he? Damn it all, Faust wasn’t paid enough (in skinks) for this!

She stepped into the living room, casting her gaze around for any clue to her bonded’s whereabouts. A crumpled parchment rested on the table and she snatched it up, recognizing Asra’s handwriting.

_ gone to Nadi’s back by sundown _

Wonderful. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Just what she needed. She may not have gotten the herbs but if they weren’t having blue-tongued skink for dinner Asra could consider himself a dead angel.

Faust huffed to herself, grabbing a brush and running it through her bluish-purple ponytail to work out the majority of the knots. If she was going into the territory of the Angel High Court, she had to look presentable, which meant ridding herself of the tangles that usually accrued in her hair. At the very least her dress was already made of fine silk, so she wouldn’t have to change outfits.

Not that she had any other outfits. Maybe it was time to go shopping.

_ Focus, Faust!  _ She didn’t bother to put on shoes as she slipped out of the cottage, heading towards the shining white palace in the distance. Its spires could be seen all across Elysium, but thankfully, she wasn’t headed there. No, she was headed to a nearby mansion that was only less impressive by comparison, the dwelling of Lady Nadia Satrinava, a close friend of Asra’s.

She’d made the trip to the Satrinava mansion several times before, and it was never easy, but today, every angel and cealian in Elysium seemed to be on the streets she needed to take. She even spotted several demons; not all that uncommon in the lower class parts of Elysium, but certainly rarer in the upper districts.

Eventually, however, Faust made it to the grand door of the Satrinava mansion. It had an owl knocker, but she chose to ignore it, instead harshly rapping her knuckles on the door. She did it again after a few moments of no answer, and just as she was about to repeat the action, the door opened.

A tall woman with beady black eyes, taloned fingers and white feathers and hair stared down at her. “Faust?” Chandra asked, tilting her head. “What are you doing here?”

“Need to see Asra!” Faust explained urgently. “Big emergency!”

Chandra blinked at her owlishly, but gave no protest, stepping back to let the smaller cealian inside. Faust dashed into the corridor, only to pause as she realized she had no idea where to go. She turned back to her friend, sheepish. “Where Asra?”

Chandra indicated an intricately carved mahogany door with a talon. “The living room. Lady Nadia and their friend are also in there, discussing a particular mortal disease, I believe.”

A mortal disease? The scales spanning Faust’s neck and shoulders itched with interest. She absently scratched at them. “Disease?”

“The Red Plague, if I recall,” Chandra explained, before quirking an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t you have something urgent to tell Asra?”

“Yes!” Faust didn’t want to admit she’d forgotten. She darted inside the living room, startling its three occupants. The auburn-haired demon (Julian, that was his name, although Faust preferred to think of him as ‘squeeze friend’) even jumped so much he spilled hot coffee over his leg, cursing in Abyssal.

Asra blinked, obviously startled by the sudden appearance of his familiar. “Faust?” To his credit, he recovered quickly. “Did you already find the herbs?”

Faust shook her head, speaking quickly as Asra’s lips curved into a frown. She couldn’t bear the feeling of Asra being disappointed in her. “Saw strange human! Smelled like death!”

Asra exchanged a glance with Nadia and Julian. “Faust,” he began, in a serious tone she rarely heard from him. “Where did you see this human? Were they sick?”

“Side street! Lots of coughing!”

Asra drew in a quick breath, Nadia furrowed her brows, and Julian bit his lip. Asra then turned to his friends, sounding somber. Faust didn’t like it, squirming anxiously. “What do you think?”

“It could be,” Julian said, after a moment of silence. “Violent coughing fits accompanied by the scent of death… that sounds like the early stages of the plague. First day.”

Nadia pressed her lips. “Surely it could not have spread so rapidly.”

“Unlikely, but not impossible,” Julian agreed. “There’s a good chance Faust’s human has the plague.”

“Plague?” Faust tilted her head quizzically. Needless to say, she didn’t understand, but she was pretty sure that whatever the angels and demon were talking about, it wasn’t good.

Asra sighed softly, drawing her attention. “The Red Plague is a new disease that escaped from Hell into the human world,” he explained. “It’s killed hundreds of humans already, and the death toll keeps rising everyday. That’s why Nadia called Ilya and I here–to try and find a cure.”

“So far, this is proving an impossible task,” Nadia interjected. “Faust, might I ask a favour of you?”

Faust looked to Asra. He gave her a little nod, so she nodded as well.

“Observe this human,” Nadia instructed. “Report to us everything you see. If this human truly has the plague, the sclera of their eyes will be red by tomorrow morning. From there, they will be lucky to see the sunset of the third day.”

A grim, heavy silence weighed on the room. Nadia’s intense gaze was fixed on Faust, Asra and Julian looking on without a word. Under that kind of scrutiny, Faust found she didn’t have much choice. “Observe!” she agreed.

Asra let out a breath, standing to approach Faust and give her a hug. She returned it eagerly, adoring ‘squeezes’ in either form, before remembering that she definitely needed a reward for this kind of work. “Skink?”

Asra laughed lightly, effectively diffusing some of the gloomy mood as he drew back from her. “Yes, Faust,” he agreed. “We’ll have blue-tongued skink for dinner tonight. Angel’s honor. Be careful, okay?”

“Always careful!” She huffed in mock-indignation. Something told her Asra wasn’t fooled, because the only response he gave was another laugh.

“Of course, I should’ve known.” He pulled out a chair. “Sit down, Faust, we won’t be able to leave for a little while longer.”

* * *

Faust returned to the building she had seen the stranger enter the day before with no small amount of trepidation. The scent of death seemed to hang around the entire structure now, leaving her with no real desire to actually enter.

Still, she had promised Nadia and the others, so with some careful maneuvering up a fence post and a leap of faith to an open windowsill, she was able to get inside the building. It didn’t take her long to locate the bedroom, where she hid herself behind a flower vase, gaze falling on the stranger.

Their hair was in tangles already, and they tossed and thrashed under thick woollen blankets, obviously deep in the grip of a relentless fever. Every few minutes they’d start coughing, and really, Faust wondered how they didn’t hack their lungs out every time it happened.

Still, it didn’t take long to locate the worst symptom, in Faust’s opinion. Dull, cloudy blue eyes were surrounded by a sea of red, confirming without a doubt that this poor human was stricken by the plague. It broke Faust’s heart to watch their suffering and to know they were dying alone and in unimaginable pain, but there was really nothing she could do. Besides, she could console herself with the thought that, most likely, by tomorrow, their spirit would have passed into Elysium or Hell, free from the sickness that currently tortured them.

Only it didn’t work out that way.

It was the dawn of the fourth day. The stranger had only become weaker over the course of the third day, no longer able to care for themselves, and Faust could feel the cold fingers of death clawing at their soul. As Faust made her way up to the windowsill again, she knew that the stranger was dead, but the snake cealian had to admit she had become attached. She wondered if anyone else had discovered the body.

Faust’s gaze fell upon the corpse, and she nearly toppled off the windowsill in shock–for it wasn’t a corpse. The stranger’s eyes were closed, and they were completely still, but the slow, rattling breaths they drew proved they were alive, just barely.

Faust hesitantly slithered closer, tongue flicking out to taste the air. Yes, she was sure of it–her friends hadn’t lied, this human should be dead. So why weren’t they?

Faust resolved to ask Asra, not bothering with performing the miniature obstacle course to escape the house, instead transporting herself back to Elysium directly. “Asra!” she called into the cottage, and for once, he answered her call, appearing from the bedroom with a curious look.

“You’re back early. Did you find something?”

Faust nodded, the words falling from her lips without really thinking about them. “Not dead!”

It took Asra a moment to puzzle out her meaning, but once he did, his eyes widened. “The human’s alive?”

She nodded, and Asra began to pace. “That doesn’t make sense. This is day four, isn’t it? How are they still alive? That should be impossible, unless–“ He suddenly stopped, turning to her. “Unless the higher-ups overlooked them. Faust, what do they look like?”

“Pink hair! Blue eyes! Tanned! Lots of freckles!”

Asra nodded, committing the description to memory. “I’m going to go to the palace to see if they have a death record. Either way, when I return, we’ll have blue-tongued skink for dinner.” He smiled fondly. “Again.”

Faust gave a delighted chirp. She wasn’t too well-versed in angel affairs, but if this apparent oversight of the angel management had won her another skink night, she sure wasn’t complaining about it.

* * *

Melodie Cantata, aged 22, was a magician, living in a small family shop in Vesuvia. She had a cousin living in Nevivon, who was technically the heir to the shop, but Sonata Cantata had never shown any interest in magic, so the shop had fallen to Melodie instead.

Sure enough, Melodie was definitely overdue to be dead, but with the sea of spirits the plague had left in its wake, the higher-ups simply hadn’t noticed such a quiet presence. They assured Asra that they’d send an escort to guide her to the appropriate afterlife… as soon as they finished the mountain of more urgent paperwork.

That would take about a week. A week in which Melodie would suffer an unimaginable and inescapable torment. Asra didn’t even know the girl and he was furious.

“That is quite enough.” A sharp voice cut through the council room. Following the source, Asra saw Nadia was no longer in her seat, fixing the head Archangel with a stare that could kill. Asra briefly met her eyes, and her expression softened, just a little bit. It was in that moment, Asra knew–Nadia had a plan. “Do you truly mean to tell me you intend to let this girl suffer from the worst disease known to Elysium and Hell in centuries,  _ a week longer than she should have?” _

The head Archangel spluttered, caught off-guard. “I- That is to say- We’d be behind schedule-”

He promptly shut up as Nadia’s eyes narrowed further, withering under her stare. “Fine. If you truly believe your paperwork is more important, then assign Asra as Melodie’s guide. Have him tend to her on Earth for the next week to ease her suffering.”

The majority of the High Court were muttering amongst themselves, but Asra believed he understood what Nadia was getting at. The mere presence of an angel was enough to weaken sickness and death–if Asra were to spend the time with Melodie, her last week wouldn’t be filled with suffering, even if she remained bedridden.

The head Archangel swallowed, fiddling with his tie. “I- I suppose that would be acceptable, if Asra agrees–”

“I do.” There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in Asra’s words. There was no way he was leaving Melodie alone with her pain. Frankly, he found it to be an insult to angels everywhere that the High Court even considered it a possibility.

_ Then again, given how they treated Muriel, it’s hardly surprising.  _ Asra gritted his teeth, nails digging into his palms as he thought of his fallen friend.  _ The bastards. _

The head Archangel coughed awkwardly, and Nadia took her seat once more, looking extremely satisfied. Asra resolved to thank her later. “W-Well then! Asra Alnazar will care for the human Melodie Cantata until her death record can be processed at the end of this week. Dismissed!”

* * *

It took an hour for the necessary preparations to be completed, but once they were, Asra wasted no time in heading to Earth. Faust was curled around his shoulders, whispering directions to him, and very quickly, he found himself on the steps of Melodie’s shop.

He knocked, mostly to announce his presence and be polite, as he knew there was no way she’d be able to get up to answer the door. He let himself in after a moment, a quick burst of angel magic making easy work of the lock. Faust hid herself in his scarf as he put his foot on the bottom of the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Melodie’s eyes were open wide as he reached the top of the staircase. Her cracked lips tried to form words, but sickness stole the words from her throat, blood dribbling down her chin and staining the sheets. Asra’s heart ached at the sight, and he slowly approached, reaching out with his magic both to ease her pain and to calm her.

It seemed to have worked, because Melodie’s next attempt at words was more successful. “Are you an angel?” she asked, voice a whisper.

Asra was taken aback at first, but then he smiled. All things considered, it was a pretty logical conclusion, and while angel law said living humans couldn’t know about angels, Melodie was legally dead, so… “Yes. I am. May I come closer?”

Melodie only nodded, still staring at him. Asra carefully made his way to sit on the edge of her bed, giving her ample opportunity to change her mind if she so wished. She didn’t, seemingly captivated by him, and after several moments of silence, he spoke. “Do you know why I’m here?” He kept his voice soft. He wanted to be a comfort to her, after all.

“I’m dying.” Melodie whispered the words, finally drawing her eyes away from Asra’s face. As soon as she said it, she began to cough, fresh blood splattering over her blankets as though to accentuate the point. “You’re… You’re here to bring me to the afterlife.”

Asra smiled again. He couldn’t help himself. This situation couldn’t be easy for Melodie, but she was putting on a brave face. That kind of thing took courage. “That’s right. Well, more or less. I can’t bring you to your afterlife until the end of the week.”

Another coughing fit seized Melodie, thankfully less violent than the last. “Why not until then?” she asked weakly. “It hurts so much…” She trailed off, and Asra realized he hadn’t even introduced himself.

“Right, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Asra.” A strange and sudden instinct to kiss her hand swept over the angel, and he pushed it back. Such a thought was unlike him, not to mention totally inappropriate. By the Archangels, Ilya must have been rubbing off on him.

“Asra…” His name fell off Melodie’s lips as a soft sigh, and unbidden, a shiver ran down Asra’s spine. He had heard his name hundreds upon thousands of times before, yet the way Melodie said it, it was  _ different  _ in a way that he couldn’t quite place. “I’m…”

“Melodie,” he interrupted idly, lost in his thoughts. Melodie’s eyes widened, and, realizing what he’d said, he hastened to explain himself, only for the dying girl to start laughing. Well, it wasn’t really a laugh, more of a mirth-filled rasp. Either way, he could identify the intent.

“Of course my escort angel would know my name. I should’ve known.” Her lips curved into the smallest smile. “Well, Asra… it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Faust wriggled out of Asra’s scarf, flicking her tongue against his cheek.  _ “Me!” _

Asra laughed, gently picking her up and placing her down on the bed. Melodie gazed at her curiously, and once it became clear she wasn’t afraid of the snake, Faust came closer, coiling up on her chest. “This is my familiar, Faust,” Asra introduced, smiling as Melodie slowly, carefully raised a hand to brush one finger against Faust’s scales, eliciting a trill of delight. “She’s the one who found you. She became quite attached.”

Melodie beamed, seeming entranced by the snake already. “Well, hello there, Faust,” she said softly.

_ “Friend!”  _ Faust booped Melodie with her snout. Despite clearly not understanding the word, she seemed to get the general idea, as she giggled.

“Well, Faust, I think I’m quite attached to you too.” She paused, looking up at Asra. “Um… if it’s not too much trouble, could you get me a glass of water, and maybe some food? I think I have some blue-tongued skink in the pantry.”

Faust cocked her head.  _ “Skink?” _

Asra had to hold back a laugh. “Sure thing, Melodie.”

* * *

The next morning saw Asra arriving at Melodie’s shop with a container of devil’s food cake tucked under his arm. It wasn’t just any regular,  _ human  _ devil’s food cake, though–no, this was a magical cake baked by the best demon chef Asra knew.

Julian had shown up on his doorstep just before he left, offering the cake. Asra had accepted it, bemused, as he explained, “I told Mazelinka what were you doing for… Melodie? That’s her name, right?” After Asra had given him a nod of confirmation, he had continued, “Well, Mazelinka went ahead and baked this for her. She said one slice of it would probably be enough to get her out of bed for a bit, but don’t go overboard on it. Humans aren’t really meant to take large doses of the kind of magic in this cake, magician or no.”

Like the day before, Asra knocked on the door, waited a few moments, then let himself in. Unlike the day before, when he reached the bedroom, Melodie’s expression was not one of fear. Instead, the faintest sparkle of excitement and delight entered her eyes. Asra couldn’t help but think it suited her, like this was closer to her natural, non-plague-ridden state.

“You  _ are _ real.” Melodie breathed the words out as he came closer. “When I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought you might’ve been a fever dream.”

Asra’s gut twisted painfully as guilt gnawed at him. He opened his mouth to respond and found he had no good reply. Thankfully, Faust spared him the awkwardness, popping out of his scarf.  _ “Gift for friend!” _

“Oh, right!” Asra shifted his stance, presenting the cake to Melodie. “A friend made this for you.”

“A cake?” Melodie made an effort to sit up, Asra quickly going to support her, receiving a grateful smile in return. “I haven’t had a cake in so long, you’ll have to thank your friend for–” She stopped, tilting her head. “Is there magic in this cake?”   


Right, she was a magician. He’d forgotten. Asra chuckled. “There sure is.” He neglected to mention that it was demon magic specifically. Even though Mazelinka and, well, most demons nowadays were perfectly safe, humans still had preconceived notions about their nature. “Apparently, a slice of it will get you moving around a bit.”

“Ohh, that sounds wonderful.” Melodie’s gaze fell upon the cake with renewed excitement. “I haven’t left this bed for three or four days, I’m dying to stretch my legs.” She paused, thinking over what she’d just said, then giggled. “I probably shouldn’t say I’m dying about anything when I’m  _ literally  _ dying, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Asra agreed, smiling. “I’ll go get a knife from the kitchen?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I really can’t wait.” Melodie lifted the cake lid with shaking fingers, taking a deep breath. “I can do this… I think.”

“Melodie?” Asra asked cautiously. She shushed him, eyes fluttering shut as she concentrated, lips pressed together. Suddenly, lines appeared in the cake as it was cut by something invisible. The spell, as Asra quickly realized, carved out a slice of cake.

Melodie’s eyes snapped open as she gasped for breath, falling back against the pillow. Asra’s hands shot out instinctively to steady her. “Melodie!”

“Sorry,” Melodie said after a moment, still catching her breath. “I guess I overexerted myself.”

“I’d say you did. You shouldn’t do that again, you’re weak,” Asra admonished lightly, carefully retrieving the slice and holding it to Melodie’s lips. “Here, let me feed you.”

Melodie’s cheeks flushed pink as she took a timid nibble, and Asra’s own colored as he realized the implications of what he’d said. “I- I didn’t mean it that way, I-”

“I know what you meant,” Melodie interrupted awkwardly, taking a slightly bigger bite. “Mmm, this is a really good cake.”

Asra couldn’t decide whether the statement was a distraction, or a genuine comment. He figured probably the latter when Melodie sat up again, this time unaided, taking the slice from him and finishing it faster than he’d ever seen anyone eat cake before. She even licked the icing from her fingers, though Asra had to admit he was guilty of doing that more often than not too.

“How do you feel?” he asked hesitantly. Finishing the slice without his help was a good sign the magic was working, but he still didn’t know to what extent.

“Honestly, still shitty, but I feel like I could stand,” Melodie joked. She extended her hand to him. “Help me up?”

Asra quickly took her hand, doing as she requested. He let go of her as soon as she was standing, but hovered nearby, ready to catch her if she collapsed. Thankfully, despite some initial wobbling, the cake magic really seemed to have worked, and soon, Melodie was starting to take slow steps around the room.

“Wow. I somehow forgot how good it feels to just… walk around.” Melodie was currently doing just that, making a slow circle around the bed, Asra keeping a close eye on her. She came to a stop in front of a table with a radio. “Do you dance, Asra?”

Why was she asking him this? “I do,” he answered curiously. “Sometimes I’ll dance with Faust back home.”

_ “Dance!”  _ Faust chirped, winding down his leg to coil up on a pile of cushions. Melodie laughed, fiddling with the radio knobs until a slow, steady waltz began to play.

She turned back to Asra, her smile a sharp contrast to the sickly red that framed her eyes. She came closer to him, close enough to take his left hand in her right. “Dance with me?”

The request came out as a whisper, but it still made Asra’s skin prickle, his cheeks quickly becoming warm. He had no doubts about his answer. “Of course,” he replied quietly, placing his free hand on her back. Melodie’s other hand came to rest on his shoulder a moment later.

Asra had always considered himself a fairly good dancer, but Melodie? Melodie was a natural. Her laughter filled the room as they went through the steps, and her movements were filled with beauty and grace, so much so that Asra could believe she was a descendent of a primordial wind spirit.

Eventually, the song came to a finish, and Melodie drew back, palms skating down Asra’s arms. “I also know the tango,” she said, a hint of mischief in her tone.

“I’m afraid I haven’t had much chance to practice that one,” Asra replied, amusement clear in his voice and expression. “Will you teach me?”

“Of course.”

* * *

On the eve of the sixth day, Asra made his way to the Satrinava mansion. He felt guilty leaving Melodie alone after cuddling with her for the past three nights, but he promised himself his reason for returning to Elysium made up for it. Besides, Melodie was already deeply asleep–he’d checked before he left.

He privately prayed Nadia wouldn’t resent the late hour as he used the knocker. Chandra opened the door after a moment. Did the owl cealian ever sleep? Every instance he’d seen of her seemed to suggest she didn’t.

“Asra?” Chandra’s apparent lack of sleep didn’t seem to make her any less bemused at the angel’s. “Isn’t it rather late for a visit?”

“Melodie didn’t fall asleep until about an hour ago, and I really need Nadia’s help,” Asra explained. “Please, Chandra, this is important.”

Chandra considered for a moment, then sighed heavily. “You are in luck; Lady Nadia decided she fancied some light reading before heading to bed tonight. Would you like some tea?”

Asra was certain Chandra already knew the answer, and was only asking as a formality. “That would be wonderful, Chandra, thank you.”

Chandra bowed at the waist and strode away. Asra, meanwhile, found his way to the library, where Nadia was perched upon a plush, red armchair, delicately perusing a leather-bound novel.

“Nadia,” he called, and she looked up. Spotting him, she placed down her book, gesturing for him to take a seat opposite her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Asra? And so late in the evening as well.” Nadia wasted no time, raising an eyebrow at him as he sat down.

“I want to give Melodie a special gift,” Asra confessed, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Tomorrow is her last day on Earth. I want her to remember it fondly.”

Nadia closed her eyes, considering the request. “There is little point in giving her something material, unless you were to bind it to her soul, and I hardly think she is strong enough for that.”

A soul binding, an enchantment on an object to keep it with its owner no matter what, including in death. But Nadia was right; Melodie’s soul was weakened by the plague. Such an enchantment had a high likelihood of plunging Melodie into a catatonic state, one that even death could not reverse.

Unless… “Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Asra answered confidently. “What would you recommend I give her?”

Nadia pressed her lips together. “Well, I hope this plan of yours is a good one, Asra.” She stood. “I am in possession of a particular necklace she may like. I never wear it, so I would be happy to give it to you. I will be just a moment.”

Nadia swept out of the library, leaving Asra alone. This didn’t last long, as soon Chandra entered, placing a cup of black tea down. Asra thanked her and raised it to his lips; at the first notes of cloves, citrus and vanilla, he recognized it.

“Lapsang souchong?” he guessed, smiling.

Chandra nodded. She didn’t often smile, but Asra was convinced he saw the slightest quirk of her lips. “Of course. How could I forget your favourite tea?”

The owl cealian retreated to a corner of the library as Nadia re-entered, striding over with purpose. She held out her hand, a gold chain dangling from her fingers. Asra gently accepted it, noticing that the necklace was an emerald in the shape of an upside-down heart. “Will this be suitable?” Nadia asked.

Asra didn’t respond immediately, closing his eyes and focusing on the aura of the necklace. There. Something similar to Melodie’s aura, but not quite the same. “It’s perfect,” he finally answered, opening his eyes and slipping the necklace into his pocket. “Thank you, Nadia.” He stood. “I don’t mean to be rude, but for my plan to work, I need to start preparations right away.”

“Of course, I understand,” Nadia replied, sitting back down and picking up her novel again. “Goodnight, Asra.”

She watched the library doors close behind Asra as he left. After a moment, Chandra spoke. “He’s in love.”

“Oh, there is no doubt of that,” Nadia agreed. “Still, I see no reason to call attention to this fact. Let’s just see what happens.”

* * *

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon as Asra climbed the steps to Melodie’s room. His heart was thumping erratically, and he could feel the necklace’s magic burning in his pocket.

He’d already half-bound the necklace to his own soul, so as to take the strain off Melodie. Sure, binding your own soul in its entirety was draining. But binding only half? That was nothing. You may as well have been binding your soul to air.

Melodie was still asleep when he entered the bedroom. Asra smiled at the sight; she was the picture of serenity, at least in his opinion, despite the fact she outwardly looked like she’d been through Hell and back.

“Melodie,” he whispered, and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled when she saw him.

“Asra,” she greeted quietly. “Today’s my last day, isn’t it?” She didn’t sound particularly upset or angry about this fact. Reflective, perhaps, was the right word to describe it.

Asra found he could only nod, approaching to sit on the edge of Melodie’s bed. She reached out to place her hand atop his, and he got the message, intertwining their fingers. “I have something for you.” He didn’t dare to raise his voice, as though doing so would destroy the sanctity of the moment. To the rest of the world, today was an ordinary day. To him, it was both an end and beginning. Something that should not be disturbed.

“What is it?” Melodie’s eyes didn’t exactly glimmer, but there was no mistaking the interest in them.

Taking a deep breath, Asra withdrew the necklace from his pocket. He carefully placed it around Melodie’s neck, silently calling to half of Melodie’s soul as he did. Melodie’s soul slotted in with his own perfectly, and he felt his fingertips tingle with the sudden influx of foreign magic surging through him. Melodie didn’t seem to have reacted in any way, so Asra figured she probably hadn’t noticed.

“I love it,” Melodie told him softly, inspecting the necklace. “Thank you. I can’t quite describe it, but… it’s the best gift you could have given me.”

From there, Asra found himself curled up against Melodie, and the two cuddled each other for the rest of the day, Faust laying herself across them. Unlike the previous five days, precious few words were spoken. They weren’t needed. In her final hours, all Melodie wanted was a comforting presence, and Asra understood that. He wasn’t about to deny her.

* * *

Back in the old days, an angel would show their true form to the humans they were escorting.

Back in the old days, an angel’s true form also wouldn’t burn a human’s retinas out.

As the phrase ‘back in the old days’ implies, this was no longer the case.

Asra didn’t have any particular desire to blind Melodie, so when he assumed his angelic form, it was far tamer than his true form. Divine energy still formed a halo, but that wasn’t anywhere close to enough power to cause any damage.

This simpler, more generic form meant he only had one set of white feathered wings (in contrast to the four sets his true form had) and he was lacking the third eye that would’ve otherwise been visible upon his forehead. There was also a distinct lack of glowing mystic runes and markings sprawled across every inch of his skin.

Asra didn’t mind it, though. True forms, whether they were angelic or demonic, weren’t made to be pretty. They were weapons, fearsome and meant to scare, and that was the last thing he wanted to subject Melodie to. So yes, he was satisfied with the much nicer visage his basic form presented.

He was awake at the crack of dawn, shuffling out of the bed with wings and halo out. His intent was to wait in the armchair for Melodie to awaken, but that wasn’t how things turned out.

“Asra?” Melodie groaned, stirring as he shifted from the bed. She rubbed groggily at her eyes. “What’s going o–” Her eyes opened, and she stopped mid sentence, spotting his wings and halo. “Oh. It’s time, isn’t it?”

Asra nodded solemnly. For a moment, there was silence. What was there to say in this crucial moment, the end of a person’s life? Several times Asra’s mouth opened and closed. Finally, tentatively, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” Melodie replied, and strangely, despite her situation, Asra could believe it.

In all the stories Asra had heard of angels escorting souls to the afterlife, it had always been the angel extending their hand to their charge, coaxing a fearful human to their final destination. Now, it was Melodie who extended her hand to Asra, ready, willing and waiting. For the first time since catching the plague, her eyes shone brightly, filled with trust and something else that was not quite so easy to place.

“I’m ready, Asra. Are you?”

Asra swallowed. It was as though that simple action was trying to banish the weight of the world. “I’m ready.”

Accepting Melodie’s hand, Asra closed his eyes. He knew where Melodie’s soul ought to go. It didn’t take an angel to see it.

Returning to Elysium was normally as interesting as breathing. This time, guiding Melodie’s soul, colors burst in front of his eyes, reds and greens and blues and yellows and all the hues of the rainbow. It was dizzying, to be honest, but Asra managed to steady himself and open his eyes.

Melodie was at his side, still hand-in-hand, and staring around at the pristine streets with undisguised awe. Asra smiled at the sight (the strange instinct to kiss her hand returned, and was quickly silenced).

“Welcome to Elysium.”


	2. Welcome to Elysium

It had turned out that Melodie was quite averse to crowds, growing skittish and nervous as they ventured further into Kekilia, the city surrounding the palace. The streets were alive with people going about their daily business, a muted din of voices coming from all around. The animated conversation and heated negotiation was white noise to Asra by now, having lived in Elysium all his life and walked these roads many times, but he could understand why Melodie didn’t like it.

It was melancholic for him, in a way, watching the way she shied away from the street stalls and bustling people. Muriel hadn’t liked crowds either.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” The offer came out softly, and definitely without permission from his brain. Melodie glanced up at him, wide-eyed, and Asra blushed. Well, no backing out now. “I mean… so you don’t get swept up by the crowd. You don’t have to. We’re not far from the palace anyway.”

Melodie looked at him for a few more moments, then back at the crowd. She chewed her lip, seemingly considering, before turning to him again. “If you don’t mind,” she answered meekly.

Asra laughed gently, reaching out to lace their fingers together. “I’ve held your hand before,” he reminded.

Pink bloomed across Melodie’s cheeks. “That was at the shop,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder. “I thought you might be… embarrassed to hold hands with me in public. Especially considering we’re just friends.”

The urge to pet her hair to comfort her welled up within Asra. He blinked and it was gone, though he could feel that deep down, some part of that desire still lingered. He squeezed her hand instead. “Well, why shouldn’t friends hold hands?” he pointed out. “If hand holding is a sign of love, there’s lots of different ways to love.”

“Right.” Melodie peeked up at him. With the plague gone from her body, her eyes sparkled like a sea of stars. “And platonic love isn’t any lesser than romantic.”

They made their way to the palace, hand-in-hand. It was mandatory that all new souls visit the palace to be assigned a dwelling by the High Court. Usually, this was in Rana, a small riverside village, or Astrocrux, a slightly larger town close to the Twilight Forest, known for its clear view of the Elysian night sky.

Sometimes, rarely, they’d find refuge with their escort. It was never without a certain amount of pressed lips and disapproving mutters amongst the High Court, the accusations of being in love.

Asra didn’t particularly care about all that, though. Melodie was already a special case, and it wasn’t any of his concern whether or not some stuffy Archangels with sticks up their asses thought they were dating. Should Melodie agree to it, he was determined for her to stay at the cottage with him and Faust.

“Asra, right on time. I presume you must be Melodie?” Nadia’s voice drew Asra from his thoughts. Glancing around, he spotted her striding down the palace steps to meet them halfway.

“That’s right, Nadi.” He glanced over at Melodie, who looked somewhat at a loss. “Melodie, this is Lady Nadia Satrinava, a member of the High Court, and a close friend of mine.”

Melodie’s eyes widened, and she dropped into a clumsy curtsy. “I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, m-my lady!” She paused. “Was that the right form of address?” Her tone sounded desperate and slightly panicked.

Nadia regarded her with light amusement. “Do not worry about such things. In the words of one of my sisters, protocol is a dance for those who know the steps. And please, call me Nadia.”

Melodie straightened up, deeply flushed. “Right. Of course, my- Nadia. Of course, Nadia.”

Asra stepped in to rescue her from the awkward interaction. “You aren’t in the courtroom, Nadi?”

Nadia curled her lip. “Remaining there would have resulted in me being forced into conversation with Valerius and Jacques. I am sure you can understand why I chose to greet the two of you over such… _pleasant_ company.”

Asra shuddered. “Oh, I definitely understand.” Noticing Melodie beginning to hide behind him, he gently put a hand on her arm. “Still, maybe we should go inside sooner rather than later.”

“Of course.” Nadia turned on her heel, setting a brisk pace. “Is Melodie interested in Rana or Astrocrux? Or perhaps somewhere else?” There was a hint of knowing in her tone, the slightest note of teasing.

“What?” Melodie seemed to be completely lost, glancing between the two angels with a blank look.

“Rana and Astrocrux are the settlements most new souls go to live in,” Asra explained, unable to help a smile. “But they can also end up living with their escort, though it’s rare.”

“With their escort… with you?” Melodie tilted her head, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. “I think I’d like that… but I don’t know. Maybe Rana will speak to me more. Or Astrocrux.”

Asra wasn’t a master of the kicked puppy eyes, but he liked to think he made a damn good attempt. Despite not being able to see it, he could sense the amusement written on Nadia’s face. “They are indeed lovely places, but I doubt you will find them comparable to Asra’s cottage.”

“Stay with us!” Both Asra and Melodie jumped–neither of them had noticed Faust slip out from her hiding place and assume her human form. Nadia, on the other hand, did not break her stride, though she did glance backwards quickly, proving Asra’s suspicions about her expression.

“Well, it seems Faust has spoken,” she said lightly. “I would not deny her if I were you.”

Under Faust’s eager gaze, Melodie laughed. “Okay, okay. How could I possibly say no to you, Faust?”

“Can’t!” Faust gave a victorious trill, clearly very pleased with herself.

Asra shook his head fondly. “I suppose you’ll be wanting skinks for dinner, Lady Faust?”

The snake cealian turned to her bonded, preening. “Yes!”

“Skinks it is, then.” He moved closer to Melodie, leaning in to whisper in her ear conspiratorially. “Playing pretend is her second favorite game.”

Melodie lifted her hands to stifle a giggle. “What’s her first?”

“How about I tell you once we get home?” He winked.

This time, she couldn’t hold back her chuckle. “Deal.”

* * *

Dealing with the High Court had been a nightmare. Asra had whispered to Melodie on the way to his cottage that over half of the reasons not to live together they cited were made up (he told her he knew angel law back to cover. When she asked why, he didn’t answer her). Even without the blatant lying, the Court didn’t exactly give a good first impression. They were dismissive of her and always condescending; half of them didn’t even bother to _look_ at her. She would have thought they would’ve treated Asra better, as one of their own, but this wasn’t the case. Where she may have gotten the cold shoulder, some of them spoke to him with outright _malice_ and distaste in their tones.

(“Why do they hate you so much?” she had asked. He didn’t answer.)

Needless to say, when Asra commented the Satrinavas were the only decent members of the Court, Melodie agreed whole-heartedly.

The walk to Asra’s cottage took about an hour, but lost in her thoughts as she was, Melodie barely even registered it. She startled when he gently nudged her with his shoulder, smiling at her teasingly. “We’re home.”

 _Home._ The word settled on her shoulders heavily, but rather than being a burden, it felt freeing. It spoke of new beginnings and new promises, and Melodie was ready to embrace it with open arms.

“Home!” Faust chirruped, slipping past them both. As soon as she placed her hand on the door, runes carved into the wood flared with a bright white light, and it creaked open a moment later. A sealing spell, only able to be bypassed by individuals who possessed the ‘key’ spell. Melodie guessed that would be Asra and Faust.

“Right, I should cast the key charm on you too,” Asra laughed, taking her hand and flipping it over so her palm was facing upwards. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” The raw feeling of Asra’s magic against her skin caused Melodie’s own to come alive, more active than it had ever been, sensing something familiar within the angel. She idly wondered why; he was only tracing a unique pattern of runes on her palm, a magical passcode of sorts. It wasn’t a particularly complicated spell, certainly nothing that should elicit this strong of a reaction.

“There.” Asra let go of her hand, and it fell to her side. The tingle of magic lingered for a few moments before fading, but if Melodie focused, she could still feel its imprint. “That should do the trick.”

Melodie held her hand out towards the door. The runes glowed, not as brightly as when Faust had entered, but that was due to the door having already been unlocked. She grinned, stepping into the threshold.

The main room of the cottage featured a fireplace (which Faust was currently trying to light) with a large rug and couch in front of it, a small dining table with four chairs, and several bookshelves. Every single one was fully stocked with what Melodie assumed to be magical texts, just based on their look and feel. A compact kitchen was attached to the living room, and she could spot a door leading into another room.

Her feet led her to it without thought, pulling open the door. The room inside was evidently a bedroom; the double bed, covered in furs and woollen blankets, made that obvious. There was a lamp on the table by the bed, and drawers that were likely intended to hold clothes, though given the various garments strewn across the floor, Melodie highly doubted that was what they were actually being used for.

“Bathroom’s out back,” Asra told her, coming up behind her. Turning around, Melodie could see that he was smiling. “Faust’s got the fire going. I’d say you could sit with her, but she’s taking up the whole couch, as per usual.” He rolled his eyes fondly.

Melodie giggled. “Well, she’s a snake, right? Cold-blooded.”

“True, but she could still leave some room for us.” Asra didn’t seem to truly mind, glancing back at his familiar with a chuckle. “Would you like to help me make dinner? I was thinking skink soup.”

“Skink soup sounds delicious, I’d love to help.” A thought occurred to Melodie. “Wait, if I’m dead, do I even need to eat?”

The question gave Asra pause, frowning in thought. “I suppose you don’t.” Then, he chuckled. “Dead or alive, though, I imagine it’ll taste the same.”

“Right,” Melodie laughed. “Shall we get cooking then?”

“I don’t know, let’s see if the lady is hungry.” Asra walked up to the couch, tapping Faust’s shoulder. She appeared to have been dozing off, because she peeked open one eye, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Are you ready for dinner, Faust?”

“Skinks!” With that, Faust closed her eyes again, shuffling a bit before settling again.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Melodie asked, grinning widely.

She saw her mirth reflected on Asra’s features. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

* * *

Nadia came to visit the next morning. Melodie had been curled up in bed with Asra and Faust when the knock had sounded, stirring them all from their slumber.

Asra yawned, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. His white curls were a mess, tousled from sleep and extra fluffy. “I should probably go see who that is,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it, voice still thick with sleep.

Faust grumbled disapprovingly, snuggling closer to Asra. Her eyes were still tightly shut. “Not awake!”

Melodie giggled, sitting up as well. “Don’t worry about it, Asra. Stay in bed, I’ll call you if you’re needed.”

Asra blinked at her, stifling another yawn. “Are you sure? You don’t really know anyone except for Nadi.”

“I’m sure.” She slipped out of the bed as Asra laid back down, surreptitiously checking that the necklace was still in place after having worn it to sleep. She grabbed a pale blue silk dressing gown off the floor and pulled it on; it belonged to Asra, but they were around the same size, and he’d said that she could borrow his clothes if she liked.

She made her way to the door and pulled it open. Nadia stood there, dressed more casually than she’d been at the palace yesterday, except casual in this case still meant ‘more expensive than anything Melodie could have afforded in her life.’

“Ah, Melodie, just the person I wanted to see,” Nadia greeted. “Is Asra sleeping in again?” Her tone held faint amusement.

“Kind of?” Melodie shook her head. “I wouldn’t say so, given he _was_ coming to the door before I offered.”

“Was he now? Well, I’m sure he appreciates your offer more than you know,” Nadia replied. “Asra has always liked to sleep in.”

“Honestly, so do I,” Melodie confessed, running her fingers through her hair. “Now that I’m, well, dead, I figured I didn’t have any pressing responsibilities. That reminds me, how can I help you?”

“I would like to take you out for a day in Kekilia, if you would agree to it,” Nadia explained. “It showcases some of the finest luxuries Elysium has to offer, and it has been far too long since I have gotten away from the palace, or my own home.”

Melodie blinked, surprised at the offer. “Oh, I- That’s very… kind of you. Just a little, uh, unexpected.” She laughed nervously.

“I understand if my abrupt arrival comes as a shock to you,” Nadia reassured her. “I can leave and return later if you would like.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Melodie responded quickly. “I was just kind of expecting a lazy day with Asra so–”

“What about me?” Asra came about behind her, yawning as he stretched. Faust trailed behind him, not looking particularly pleased at having been forced to wake up.

“Good morning, Asra,” Nadia greeted, and if she was amused, she did a good job of hiding it. “I apologize for the early hour. I have just invited Melodie to spend the day with me in Kekilia.”

Asra was silent for a moment, and Melodie guessed his mind was trying to process this information, still addled with sleep. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face. “You know, Melodie, if you go with her, I’m sure Lady Nadia could give you everything you desire.”

“Perhaps not everything,” Nadia commented, a hint of knowing in her tone. What that knowing was about, however, Melodie had no idea. “But anything material you could wish for, yes. Simply ask, and it will be yours.”

Melodie thought back to the long, cold winter nights when all she had to fill her stomach was a slice of bread. Even in more fortunate times, she considered herself lucky to freely have access to various common meats and vegetables in the marketplace. She licked her lips as she thought of this. “Does Kekilia have any fancy restaurants?”

Nadia showed no outward signs of surprise at this request. “Of course. I have the perfect place in mind. However, some more appropriate clothes might be in order.” Her gaze roved over Melodie’s dressing gown, a faint glimmer in her eyes. “And certainly not the old clothes you were wearing yesterday. Forgive my saying this, but you looked rather ragged, and Kekilia is an upper-class district.”

“She could borrow one of my dresses,” Asra suggested, but Nadia was already shaking her head.

“Nonsense, those were tailored to compliment you, not her.” She cast an appraising eye over Melodie. “Besides, I already have the perfect dress in mind. We will just have to make a short stop at the palace.”

The palace. The idea of returning to the High Court’s stomping grounds sent a shiver down Melodie’s spine, but she reasoned that if it was just to pick up a dress, maybe it would be okay. “Alright, fine by me.”

“Excellent.” Nadia turned to Asra. “Asra, I promise I will have her home by sundown.”

Asra chuckled. “I’m not her parent, Nadi.”

“Be that as it may, you are still very concerned for her welfare.” She raised an eyebrow. “Or am I wrong in my assessment?”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” Asra smiled at Melodie. “Have a good time today, okay?”

Melodie smiled back. “Yeah. I will.”

* * *

The dress Nadia had picked out for her was a simple, strapless one with an A-line silhouette, rose pink in color. Gold trim looped around her right shoulder, feeding into a bell sleeve. It also tied in a ribbon around her waist, and adorned the hem of a silken overskirt.

It was obviously extremely expensive, but even so, Melodie still felt underdressed for the restaurant Nadia took her to.

“Is there something unsatisfactory with your dish, Melodie?” Nadia asked, looking up from her plate of spiced swordfish. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Melodie glanced down at her meal; grilled trout and boiled clams with a side of pumpkin bread and blueberries. She also had a small plate of honey cakes, and a cup of some kind of floral tea. “No, no, the food’s amazing! Just… this is better food than I’ve ever tasted.”

Nadia gave her a surprisingly indulgent smile. “Well then, Melodie. Julian’s sister, Portia, will be visiting Elysium for the weekend. She is a close friend of mine, and we have arranged to spend a day together. I am sure she will not mind if you wish to join us and taste more of Kekilian cuisine.”

Melodie blinked. “Julian?”

“Ah, my apologies. I forgot you were not acquainted with him,” Nadia responded. “Julian Devorak is a doctor, and a friend of mine and Asra’s. He has been bringing his knowledge of supernatural medicine and diseases to Elysium, in the hope of helping Asra and I find a cure to the Red Plague.”

“To Elysium? You mean, he’s not from here?” Melodie asked. “Because if he’s not from here, then…”

“He is from Hell, yes,” Nadia confirmed. “But do not worry. While he is a demon, your human notions of them are severely outdated. The angels of Elysium and demons of Hell maintain a good relationship.”

“So… to be certain, these demons are perfectly safe?” Melodie checked, cautious.

“Correct.” She swore she saw the corners of Nadia’s lips curve up into a smile. “They would not lash out unless provoked. Certainly Julian wouldn’t, at the very least.”

Melodie considered her options, then gave a slow nod. “I think I’d like to join you. Who knows, it might be fun to get to know a demon.”

“Excellent. I will make sure to inform Portia you will be joining us at the soonest opportunity.” She glanced at the window. “By the way, I would recommend finishing eating soon. There is much I would like to show you, and I promised Asra to bring you home by sundown.”

“Oh, right!” Blushing slightly, Melodie picked up her fork again, taking another bite of trout.

It really was the best trout she’d ever tasted.

* * *

“Asra, I’m home!”

Asra had been curled up in bed with a spellbook debating what to make for dinner when he heard the call. He sat up quickly, accidentally knocking Faust, who had been snuggling into his side.

“Rude!” she hissed, forked tongue flicking out as she fixed him with an annoyed gaze.

“Sorry, Faust,” he apologized, slipping out of the bed and placing his book on the bedside table. “You can go back to sleep. I’m just going to go say hi to Melodie.”

Faust grumbled something unintelligible, but sure enough, she did go back to sleep. Asra smiled at the sight before stepping out into the main living room. “Evening, Melodie. How was your–”

He cut himself off mid sentence as his eyes widened. The dying light caught in the silk of Melodie’s dress, flowing light and free around her body, and she looked at him with a shy smile that stole his breath away. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve said _she_ was the angel.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, as if he was just now realizing this for the first time.

Melodie’s cheeks colored, and he snapped himself out of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird–”

“Thank you, Asra.” The words were so quiet he almost missed them, but no. Asra was sure his own face was becoming flushed as Melodie stepped into the threshold properly.

He swallowed. “You’re welcome.” He hesitated, then slowly asked, “What do you want for dinner?”

Melodie pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Pumpkin pie?”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * *

It turned out that Melodie was quite popular. She received another visitor the next day, although their way of coming in was more… unconventional.

“Ilya, we have a front door,” Asra said, crossing his arms and raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the demon who was currently sprawled across the bedroom floor, surrounded by shards of glass. Melodie could’ve sworn the raven perched on the windowsill would be facepalming if it was human.

Julian gave the angel a sheepish grin. “I wanted to make a grand entrance for the lady.”

The raven flitted into the room. With a poof of smoke, he had transformed into a human with dead inside black eyes, along with slicked back hair and feathers of the same color. “To be fair, I told him it was a bad idea,” he sighed.

Faust raised her head from the pillow. “Malak!”

“Hi, Faust,” Malak answered, offering a hand to Julian. He accepted, and Malak pulled him to his feet. “I apologize for my idiot bonded.”

“Hey! ...no, that’s fair.” Julian shook himself, running his fingers through his hair before grinning at Melodie. “So, you must be the human Asra’s found himself with!”

“Uh,” Melodie responded intelligently, not entirely certain what he meant by that. “Yes? I’m Melodie.”

“Julian, a pleasure to meet you,” he replied with a sweeping bow. “Ever met a demon before?” He winked.

Melodie exchanged a bemused glance with Asra. “No, but Nadia told me about you.”

“Has she?” Julian straightened up. “Then how would you feel about a trip to experience the sights of Hell with me?”

“Uhh…” Melodie had no idea how to reply to that, and all Asra had to offer was a shrug. “Sure?”

“Wonderful!” Julian cleared his throat. “Well then, I’ll just be… waiting outside. For you to get changed into some… more appropriate clothes. Hell is quite hot, after all, with all the fire and brimstone.” He swept out of the room, and Malak followed, looking extremely long-suffering.

“Tells me to dress appropriately, but is wearing a long, black coat,” Melodie mused, shaking her head. She barely even knew the demon and she already doubted she would ever understand him.

“Ilya’s a masochist,” Asra responded, without a hint of shame. “He does it to be dramatic. He thinks it’ll make him popular with the… well, I’d say with the ladies, but Ilya’s about as pansexual as you can get. So let’s say he does it to be popular with people in general.”

Melodie giggled, rolling her eyes. “He’s not really my type.”

A hint of a grin quirked on Asra’s lips. “Mine neither, but he has his perks.” He strode over to the drawers. “Come on, let’s find you something to wear. The dress Nadi gave you would probably work, but I don’t want it getting singed.”

Melodie figured she’d always be wondering what the hell Asra meant by “perks.”

* * *

Julian’s house reminded Melodie of Asra’s cottage, only bigger and a lot hotter. She figured it was probably bigger because it housed five people, and the temperature was likely due to the fact it was situated by a lava lake. According to Julian, it was “top demon real estate.” Somehow, Melodie reaaaaaally doubted that.

The door of the house burst open. A white-and-brown Siamese cat came flying out, a screeching cockatoo struggling in its mouth. “UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT, FOUL BEAST!” it shrieked, futilely trying to beat its wings. “I SWEAR YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!”

The cat screeched to a halt as it saw Melodie and Julian, eyes widening as its mouth fell open. The cockatoo took the opportunity to free itself, fluttering a short distance away before transforming into a human with red eyes and white feathers, tinged yellow at the tips. Blood trickled down from a wound on his left forearm. “Impudent creature, if my arm has to be amputated, you’re paying for it!”

With a growl, the cat turned into a human girl. Her long hair was brown, fading to black at the tips, and she was wearing a simple white dress and flats. Cat ears poked up from her head, a tail swishing behind her. She was what one could consider tiny, but the look in her blue eyes struck Melodie with the fear of gods. “Your arm is _fine,_ Camio, but I swear to the Archdemons, if you don’t get out of here _right now,_ I will _destroy your bloodline.”_

“Like hell you will!” Still, Camio seemed to take the threat seriously, strutting off while muttering insults. The cat cealian watched him go, eyes stormy.

“Camio causing trouble again, Pepi?” Julian asked. He seemed quite amused by the whole exchange.

Pepi growled, flattening her ears. “Yes! Ugh, I swear, one day I’m going to _murder_ him. He tastes about as nice as his attitude!”

Julian shook his head, chuckling. “Well, Pepi, this is Melodie. She’s a human Asra brought to Elysium. Melodie, this is Pepi, my sister’s familiar.”

Pepi perked right up, giving Melodie a bright smile. “Nice to meet you, Melodie! Sorry about that display, Camio’s a bitch. Oh, and I really like being petted behind my ears.”

“Nice to meet you too, Pepi.” Melodie already found herself endeared to the cat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Pepi purred, flicking an ear forwards. “Oh, you’ll want to meet Portia, right? Follow me!” She bounded inside, and Melodie glanced to Julian.

Julian met her gaze, grinning. “Neither of them bite, you know. Well, not on the first meeting.”

Melodie rolled her eyes. “Alright, on this I actually believe you,” she said, before entering the house. Pepi waved to her from beside a door before darting inside. Melodie followed, finding herself in a living room that was again much like Asra’s, just bigger.

Pepi gestured for her to take a seat, calling out. “Portia! We have a guest!”

“Be right there!” A girl emerged from a door a few moments later, ginger hair flowing down her back in curls. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Melodie. “Oh, you’re Melodie, right? Nadia told me about you! I’m looking forward to this weekend.” She beamed, winking.

Melodie grinned, taking a seat on the couch. “Yup, that’s me. You seem to be less dramatic than your brother,” she observed.

“Don’t worry, I can be plenty dramatic when I want to be. It runs in the family.” Portia then sighed, a disgruntled expression crossing her face. “I apologize for Ilya’s idiocy, though. He tends to take it too far.”

“I do not!” Melodie jumped, having not noticed Julian entering the room. “You wound me, Pasha.”

Portia rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we let Melodie be the judge of that?”

“You do tend to be a little overdramatic,” Melodie noted, barely stifling a laugh.

Julian gasped, putting a hand to his forehead and swaying dramatically. “Well, I never! Such betrayal! I–”

“Oh, calm down, Ilya, it’s not like she just _stabbed_ you,” Portia interrupted, though it looked like she was concealing giggles. “Tea, Melodie? Or maybe coffee?”

Melodie could already tell she was going to enjoy her day with the Devoraks. “Tea sounds great.”

* * *

The forest at night came alive with various critters. Inanna knew them all by heart by now, having lived in this forest for several years now, ever since Muriel’s banishment from Elysium. Inanna knew she didn’t have to follow him to Earth, but she was the only friend who could keep Muriel company after the tragic trial. She wasn’t going to abandon him.

Muriel was asleep by now, which meant it was time for Inanna to hunt. Right now, she was tracking a deer, but the animal was elusive, and she was having a hard time picking up its scent.

 _Where did you go?_ Inanna’s ears were alert as she sniffed the air. She was sure the deer had come this way…

Smoke. Sulfur. Decay. _Death._

Inanna recoiled, instinctively sinking into a defensive position. One of those scents alone would be strange. But all of them together? The combination was uniquely _demonic,_ and it made every single fur on Inanna’s back stand on end. Why was there such a strong demonic presence in this ordinary Earth forest?

She was loath to do so, but Inanna knew she had a duty to complete. Slowly, she began to track the scent, deer forgotten. As she drew closer, the thorns and brambles beneath her paws became thicker, forcing her to make leaps and bounds to avoid injury, tree roots and plants blackened with decay all around.

The source of the smell, when she located it, sent alarm bells ringing in Inanna’s head. There was a deep, wide fissure in the earth, red smoke billowing out from it. An abyssal rift, she was sure of it. A crack in the barrier between Hell and Earth. But it was the job of both demons and angels to keep them sealed. So why was one here?

As she watched, a plume of white smoke drifted out as well. This was new. Inanna took a curious sniff, and immediately stumbled back. The white smoke brought with it a person’s scent, one Inanna was intimately familiar with.

 _No way, it can’t be him. If he’s back, Muriel fell for nothing!_ It only took a second for Inanna to make her decision, turning and bounding back towards her bonded’s hut.

_I have to tell Muriel. If it’s him… we’re all in grave danger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to come chat with me on tumblr at princess-of-aengels! Feel free to just yell 'X AND Y WERE SO SWEET IN THIS CHAPTER!' or whatever in my inbox too!


	3. Friend or Foe?

After her day with the Devoraks, Melodie was pleased to say she had had no more unexpected visits or outings. Her first week spent living (or as close as one could get when they were dead) with Asra had been slow, but cozy. There was no responsibility to open and tend to her shop anymore, and Asra didn’t seem to have any particular duties either, except when he met up with Nadia and Julian on Mondays and Thursdays.

They quickly fell into a routine. Melodie always awoke first, and every morning, Asra and Faust would try to coax her back to sleep. Sometimes they’d succeed, and none of the trio could be expected to be up before noon. Most of the time, however, they didn’t, and Melodie would shuffle into the kitchen, eventually luring her companions out of bed with pancakes, eggs and bacon, porridge, or whatever other breakfast item she felt like making.

After their stomachs were full, Faust would slip off to Earth to search for any interesting news or events, leaving Asra and Melodie alone in the cottage. Asra never seemed particularly motivated to leave the house (unless it was Friday, grocery day, or if Melodie wanted to see the sights of Elysium), content to pull her either back to bed or to the couch to cuddle. Sometimes they’d swap stories, trade magical knowledge, or read books; it didn’t really matter. They were together, and that was enough.

Melodie figured they probably seemed like a couple to people who didn’t know better. It was an amusing thought to her, yet on some level, she was disturbed by the notion that if two people shared a living space and had no issue with physical intimacy, they must be dating.

Not that she  _ minded  _ people mistaking her and Asra for a couple, it was just… weird.

Saturday, the day she was meant to spend with Nadia and Portia, arrived quicker than expected. Nadia had come by early in the morning, offering her yet another fancy dress for her collection, before whisking her away to Kekilia, where they met up with Portia.

They spent the majority of the morning perusing various street stalls, although Melodie was cautious to always stay close to one of the girls. She didn’t make any purchases except for a stone statuette of a dog with two small aquamarines for eyes. It was masterfully crafted, and something about it spoke to her.

Nadia then whisked them away to a restaurant for lunch. It wasn’t the same one she had taken Melodie to earlier in the week, but the lavish atmosphere was much the same. Portia didn’t seem to take much notice of it, eagerly chowing down on bread pudding. Melodie opted to try a dish of baked lobster and pasta. Like all Kekilian cuisine she’d tasted so far, which admittedly wasn’t that much, it was delicious.

The three girls enjoyed their meals, exchanging companionable small talk and discussing what to do with their afternoon. It seemed more shopping was on the agenda, and although Melodie didn’t mind it, it was starting to get a little exhausting, and she just wanted to return to Asra and Faust. Asra had promised they could have chicken schnitzel for dinner, and Melodie’s mouth watered just thinking about the delectable dish.

“Friends!”

“Faust?” Nadia and Melodie exclaimed at the same time, turning to the source of the familiar voice. Sure enough, the snake cealian had just entered the restaurant, hurrying over to the trio and tugging on Melodie’s sleeve. Panic and urgency danced in her eyes.

“Inanna back! Big problem!”

“Inanna’s back?” Portia asked, eyes widening in surprise. “But then… what happened to Muriel?”

“Nothing, Muriel’s fine.” The low rumble came from the hulking figure ducking inside the building. Thick, tangled black hair framed glowing yellow eyes. Muscles rippled beneath dark brown skin. Three long scars that looked like they might have came from claws rested on their right cheek, and they were dressed in tattered clothes that definitely didn’t fit the environment. Most notable, however, were the wolf ears sticking up from their head, alert, and the matching tail. “But as Faust said, we have a big problem on our hands. Muriel sent me to warn you all…” Her voice lowered, eyes narrowing and darkening. “Since we know the High Court won’t listen.”

Nadia stood. Her relaxed manner had disappeared, replaced with tense posture and a fierce look in her eyes. “If Faust is here, I presume Asra already knows of the situation?”

Faust bobbed her head, Inanna nodding as well. “He sent Faust and I to find the three of you. I just need to find Julian and–”

“Some demon in Sekal came down with a serious case of rot claw,” Portia interrupted. “Ilya was called away to treat it. I’m sure this is important, but saving lives comes first for him. He’s a doctor, after all.”

“Rot claw?” It didn’t sound exactly pleasant, but this was the first Melodie had heard of a demon, or any supernatural creature, falling ill.

“Rot claw is what happens when a demon doesn’t take good care of their claws,” Portia informed, rolling her eyes. “A bit of fungi grows in the wrong place, and next thing you know, you have to amputate your arm. Sekal’s a pretty shitty place, so there’s a new case of rot claw about once every fortnight, along with other easily preventable demon diseases.”

“So Sekal’s environment is why so many demons get sick?” Melodie raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have any sort of government to prevent that?”

Portia scoffed, putting a hand on her hip. “Yeah, right. The Angel High Court might be comprised of total jackasses–except you and your family, Nadi–but at least they do their job. The Demon High Court hasn’t lifted a finger to help Sekal in centuries.”

“We’re attracting attention,” Inanna interrupted, and sure enough, many of the restaurant’s patrons were openly staring at this point. Mostly at Inanna, but she seemed not to care. “There will be plenty of time for the two of you to discuss Sekal’s living conditions later. For now, we need to get to Asra’s house, quickly.”

“Quickly!” Faust echoed urgently, already headed for the door.

“Of course, my apologies, Inanna.” Nadia glanced to the other two girls. “Melodie, Portia, are you coming?”

“Right away, Nadi!” Portia answered hurriedly, getting to her feet.

Melodie stood as well, the faintest pit of dread settling in her stomach. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

* * *

Count Lucio had disappeared from Vesuvia several years ago under mysterious circumstances. No trace of him had ever been found; at the time, Melodie had found that odd, but had figured it’d be best not to question it.

Of course, now that Lucio was returning to the world and bringing the Red Plague with him, Melodie found herself a whole lot more involved in the Count’s disappearance than she would have liked to be.

According to Inanna and the others, back before he’d vanished, Lucio had made a desperate grab for power in the form of trying to become a demon. There were lots of ways to do this, apparently, none of them good or healthy, and Lucio had gone straight for the riskiest and most effective of them all; a deal with Lucifer, one of the first demons, commonly regarded to be the most fearsome and powerful of his kind.

But Lucifer himself thirsted for more power. He was not content to remain a nightmarish presence that stalked the dreams of mortals, anchored to a parallel realm where the power of the Ancients was contained. Every deal with Lucifer weakened the chains binding him there, and Lucio’s bargain? If seen to completion, it would finally free the monstrous idea humans had named “the Devil.”

“All the concepts known as the Major Arcana of the tarot deck in your world are the Ancients,” Asra had told her, eyes dark. “Most of them use what’s left of their presence to help those who exist now, or otherwise completely turn their gaze away. They are content with the status quo. Only Lucifer rebels.”

Melodie had been told the tragic story of Inanna’s bonded, Muriel, too. Inanna had discovered an abyssal rift one day, not unlike the one that had brought her here. She had told Muriel immediately, who went to investigate without gaining permission from the Angel High Court. He’d found Lucio partially integrated with Lucifer’s essence, a warped creature that was neither human nor demon. He’d sealed Lucio away beneath Hell itself, seemingly ending the threat, but he was not rewarded for his heroism. Rather, the Angel High Court had cast him down as a fallen angel, simply for daring to act on Earth without their permission.

“I cried that night,” Asra confessed to her as they curled up together beneath the blankets of their bed that evening, the others long gone. “I never knew a thing about what he was doing. I blamed myself.”

With this information churning in her head, Melodie found it difficult to fall asleep. She eventually managed it, but the realm of dreams offered her no reprieve from the day’s horrors.

Melodie stood on the street outside her shop; she’d know it anywhere. But something was terribly wrong. Deep, wide cracks sprawled across the earth like a spiderweb, the buildings around her falling to ruin even as she watched, paralyzed with horror. Boiling blood-red water flooded the street, rising quicker and quicker until it was at Melodie’s waist, forcing her to grab onto a rusting pole to keep from being swept away.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the cracked window of her shop. Her heart stuttered at her reflection; she looked weak and frail, like she was dying. Perhaps she was, she noted, as she realized the sclerae of her eyes were an unforgiving red.

“This has to be a nightmare,” Melodie muttered to herself. “I’m dead already.”

“A nightmare?” The voice that reverberated all around was familiar, but it took Melodie a moment to place it; it was her own voice, but much younger, childlike and carefree. Looking up, she spotted a mirror copy of herself perched on top of her shop’s crumbling roof, only ten years younger. “No, this is a vision. Of a future you failed to save.”

“Of a future I… failed to save?” None of this made any sense. “Who are you? Why do you look like me?”

Her younger self smiled, before hopping down to the ground. Melodie was about to shout out a futile warning when the water around the strange girl began to hiss and steam before evaporating, clearing a safe space around her. It was then that Melodie understood that this being was far more than human. “I have many names, and faces for all those who gaze upon me. To you, I am known as Elira.”

“Elira.” Melodie didn’t know the name, yet it felt strangely familiar on her tongue. “You didn’t answer my question. What future? What does this nightmare… vision have to do with me?”

“Like I said, it is all that remains of a world you failed to save.” Elira came closer, and Melodie shuddered, but didn’t flinch away as the girl placed a soft hand on her cheek. Suddenly, she seemed taller, but without losing her childlike innocence. “You were not just an unfortunate bystander to this. Destiny has a plan for you.” Elira’s fingers trailed down Melodie’s cheek. “I am sorry that you have to bear this burden, Melodie Cantata.”

Melodie swallowed thickly. “What… What do I do to stop this?” The world she loved in shambles. If this was truly a vision, as Elira said, she would give her whole heart, her whole being, to stop it from coming to fruition.

The faintest ghost of a smile touched Elira’s features. “That, I cannot tell you. But know this. Make no mistake, this is not a task you are to undertake alone. You must trust in your friends. Nurture your bonds with them and you can avoid this ruin and save all worlds.” Her eyes darkened, and her form seemed to flicker, older and wiser, before resuming the child’s appearance. “Remember, Melodie. You may be the one, but you’re not the only one.”

“I may be the one, but I’m not the only one…” Melodie echoed, gazing at Elira with wonder as the words processed. Then, before her eyes, Elira began to fade, along with the nightmarish scene. “Wait–Elira, wait!”

She bolted upright in bed, sweat clinging to her skin as she gasped for breath. Her heart was beating like she’d just run a marathon, and it took her a moment to register the smooth, heavy, strangely warm touch on her skin. As her heartbeat calmed, she sought out the source.

Feathers. Asra was curled up next to her in his angelic form, one wing draped over her like a blanket. She struggled not to go ‘aww’ at the sight.

Asra stirred suddenly, yawning and sleepily blinking his eyes open. His wings and halo vanished, until he looked no less human than her. “Melodie? ...are you okay?”

“I’m fi–” Melodie stopped herself mid-sentence. She wasn’t fine. She had no reason to lie to Asra. “No. I…” She took a deep breath, unconsciously pulling the blankets up to her chin. “I had a nightmare. Or… a vision.”

“A vision?” Normally, Asra took a while to properly wake up. This case seemed to be the exception, as he sat straight up, concern shining in his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

_ You must trust in your friends. Nurture your bonds with them and you can avoid this ruin and save all worlds.  _ Elira’s words rang in Melodie’s mind, and she nodded. “I… I think you need to know.”

Asra led her out to the living room, disappearing into the kitchen to put the tea kettle on. Faust appeared from the bedroom a moment later. She seemed to sense the mood, as she didn’t complain about being woken up, instead assuming her snake form and slithering up to curl around Melodie’s shoulders like a long, scaly shawl. From this position, Faust flicked her tongue against Melodie’s nose playfully, pulling giggles from her as she sat down on the couch.

Asra emerged from the kitchen with two cups of tea, a soft smile playing on his lips as he spotted the two of them. “Well, it seems Faust was quicker to the mark than I was,” he joked, handing Melodie a cup of tea before taking a seat beside her.

“She’s a very smart snake,” Melodie giggled, taking a sip of tea. Faust gave a hiss, and though Melodie couldn’t understand it, she assumed it was of agreement.

Asra laughed for a moment, before growing solemn. “Do you want to talk about your vision now? It’s okay if you don’t.”

Melodie sighed, staring into her cup. It wasn’t an easy thing to talk about, that much was true. But the image of Vesuvia in ruins, red water flooding through the streets, wasn’t something she could avert her eyes from. “I… I’m ready.”

She told him everything. Asra listened in silence, nodding every so often or humming encouragingly when she paused. He was quiet for a few moments after she finished the tale, before he exhaled heavily, placing down his cup. “Elira… I think they must be one of the Ancients.”

“What?” Dread crawled up Melodie’s spine. Despite the numerous assurances she’d received that most of the Ancients were fairly affable, the stories she’d heard of Lucifer were enough to set her on edge.

“Don’t worry, Elira is possibly the most good-natured of them all,” Asra quickly reassured her. “At least, if my suspicions are right. They are neither angel nor demon, containing a bit of both and ephemeral, changing constantly depending on who looks upon them. In the tarot deck, they best embody the idea of ‘the Fool.’”

The Fool. Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit. In its reversed position, it meant holding back, recklessness, and risk-taking. When she reflected on her vision, Melodie could see these things represented in Elira. Thinking back even further, to when she was alive and used her tarot deck on a daily basis, she realized now the Fool’s voice had been Elira’s. Had all the other cards been the voices of Ancients too? They had to have been.

Asra was still talking. “I’m sure your vision has something to do with Lucio’s return. If that’s the case, I’m glad you’re here.” He gently reached out, seeking permission with his eyes to touch her. Melodie nodded, and he laced their fingers together with a light squeeze. “If it’s truly your destiny to try and prevent that future, then we’re all here for you.”

Faust hissed. Again, Melodie didn’t understand, but she was fairly sure she got the idea that Faust was there for her too. “Thank you, both of you. You… You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Asra gave her hand another squeeze, blessing her with a soft smile that sent her heart fluttering. “We won’t abandon you, Melodie. Now… do you want to go back to bed, or stay here?”

Melodie considered her options. The warmth of the bed was tempting, but it meant breaking apart from Asra, and she didn’t want that. Not right now. “Let’s stay here and cuddle on the couch.”

Asra’s resulting smile was brilliant enough to outshine all the stars in the sky. “Great minds think alike.”

* * *

The next day arrived with no small amount of apprehension on Melodie’s part. This was obviously also the case for Asra, who was actually up earlier than her for once; when she awoke, he was in the kitchen, busying himself with pancakes for breakfast.

Quietly, she crept up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. Normally, she wouldn’t dream of doing this without permission, but one of the first things Asra had told her was that he didn’t mind being touched. In fact, he encouraged her to be physically affectionate when she felt like it. “Good morning,” she whispered into his ear.

The way he looked back at her, like she was the sun and the moon and a sea of glittering stars all at once, made her forget, just for a moment, that anything was wrong. “Good morning.”

She stayed like that for a moment, just drinking him in, then she sighed, pressing herself closer. “You’re up early,” she said softly, her tone teasing.

Asra laughed, turning his attention back to the pancakes. “We’ve got guests coming over soon, remember? Besides, after last night, I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You’re literally the sweetest, Asra,” Melodie sighed, finally detaching herself from him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to keep cuddling him; quite the contrary. It was like some magnetic force drew her to him. However, as he had said, they were having guests over, so it wasn’t the best time to do… whatever it was they did. “Do you want me to set out the table?”

“That’d be great, Mel,” Asra replied, before immediately freezing and going wide-eyed as he realized what he’d just said. Melodie found she wasn’t any better, heart thumping in her chest as his words rattled around in her brain.  _ Did… did he just call me Mel?  _ He’d never done that before.

There was a long silence, the kind you could hear a pin drop in. Finally, tentatively, Asra broke it. “Can… Can I call you Mel?”

The answer came to Melodie as easily as breathing. “Of course, Asra,” she said gently, and even though it was just a nickname, somehow it felt like a leap in their relationship.

Asra’s brilliant smile took over his expression. “Thank you, Mel,” he replied tenderly, as if testing the way the name felt on his tongue.

Melodie felt like her soul itself was glowing as she set out the table. She and Asra didn’t exchange much conversation from that point, but honestly? She was glad for it. It felt like the last day of her life all over again, even though being called a nickname by someone she loved paled in comparison to– wait.

Someone she loved.

Did she love Asra?

The thought stilled her, a forkful of pancake halfway to her mouth. There was no denying that whatever feelings she harboured for Asra, they were strong ones, but she’d never thought about their nature before. Asra was certainly beloved to her as a friend, but was that the extent of her feelings?

She tried to picture kissing Asra. Soft lips against hers, safe in his warm embrace. Even imagining it, her heart began to beat like a caged bird demanding to be freed, and the urge to laugh because of how simply  _ wonderful  _ Asra was welled up in her. She shoved it down immediately, placing her fork down as well.

She definitely had a crush on Asra. But could she have fallen in love with him in two weeks?

“Melodie?” Asra’s concerned voice cut into her thoughts. She glanced up, heart still hammering madly, to see him giving her a look so full of affection and worry she felt sure she was going to melt on the spot. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.” It was difficult to speak around the weight in her chest her revelation had caused, but Asra didn’t seem to pick up on it. Carefully, she lifted the fork to her mouth and finally,  _ finally  _ consumed the bite of pancake (whipped cream and raspberry, her favourite).

“I was worried,” Asra admitted, his eyes not leaving her face. “You completely froze up. I thought that maybe you were thinking of…” He trailed off, seemingly uncertain.

“Thinking of...?” Melodie prompted, curious.

“Thinking of your last week on Earth. When you were alive,” Asra confessed, looking away from her. “The pain you must have suffered, but also–”

“But also what happened between us,” Melodie finished. If asked how she had known what Asra was thinking, she wouldn’t have been able to say. “I… I wasn’t thinking about that, exactly. But I  _ was  _ thinking about us.”

Asra looked back at her, eyes glimmering with interest. “And what was on your mind?”

_ I love you, Asra.  _ That was, more or less, what had been on her mind. But she wasn’t ready to say that to him, not when she had just barely begun to question her feelings for him. Besides, if she was being completely honest with herself, it was more like  _ I think I love you. _ “Not now. I’ll tell you another time. Promise.”

“Alright.” Asra didn’t seem particularly upset or disappointed that she hadn’t told him. He  _ did _ look like he wanted to say more, but at that moment, there was a knock on the door.

Melodie stood, making her way to pull open the door. Nadia stood on the doorstep, Portia at her side. Both women looked extremely serious. Behind them, though, she could see Julian, who almost looked… bored?

Definitely bored, she decided, as Julian lifted a hand to cover a yawn. Or maybe just tired. Yes, that was probably it. The demon did look like he hadn’t slept in a hundred years, so maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched to believe.

So why did she get the feeling that wasn’t the case?

“Good morning, guys,” she greeted hesitantly, unable to tear her eyes away from Julian. “Asra and I were just having breakfast. Would you like to join us?” She belatedly realized they wouldn’t have enough chairs to seat all of them at the dining table, especially if Faust woke up soon.

“No thank you,” Nadia declined politely. “I made sure to eat a large breakfast before making my way here.”

“I’ll pass too,” Portia agreed. “Mazelinka whipped up some delicious scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast, so I’m full and raring to go!”

“My dearest sister is absolutely correct,” Julian affirmed. “The meal was almost of palace standard. I will have to decline your offer as well, unless breakfast happens to be ox tartare.”

“Um…” Melodie really had no idea how to react to that. “No, it’s pancakes.”

She was sure she didn’t imagine Julian’s slight scoff. “Pancakes? I was under the impression you angels ate fancier food, fit for a king.”

Asra had gotten up from the table, a bemused expression on his face. “Ilya, you know that isn’t true.”

Melodie quickly intervened, wanting to move on from the subject of food. “So Julian, how was the demon with rot claw?”

“Rot claw? What?” He gave her a blank look.

“You know, that you treated yesterday,” Melodie elaborated, feeling as confused as Julian looked. “You were treating a demon in Sekal who had come down with rot claw? That’s why you didn’t make it to our initial briefing.”

“I don’t know what you’re– oh, yes! Yes, yes, of course. They were perfectly fine. I, ah… washed their claws for them.” Julian wrinkled his nose.

_ Washed their claws?  _ Melodie was pretty sure you couldn’t just wash away fungi, but then again, Julian was the doctor, and she wasn’t. Probably best not to question it.

“Uh, Ilya, you can’t just wash away rot claw,” Portia piped up, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, you told me it took hours of carving away fungi and trimming their claws.”

“Did I?” Somehow, Julian’s face got paler. “Ah, well, no matter. Point is, the patient’s fine. That’s the important part, right?”

“...Yes, indeed.” Nadia pressed her lips in a thin line, focusing a critical stare on the demon, who wilted ever so slightly under her gaze. “Well, Julian, I sincerely hope you are not so forgetful about our plan. I assume Portia has filled you in?”

“Of course I have!” Portia placed her hands on her hips. “The question is whether or not Ilya was listening.” She gave a wink.

Julian puffed out his chest. “Of course I was listening, little sister! I’m the best listener around.”

“Right.” Asra seemed to share Melodie’s unease about the situation. “Well then, everyone, take a seat. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”

* * *

Under ordinary circumstances, Melodie would’ve been happy to help Julian sort through the various ingredients they kept in the cottage while the others attended to their own tasks. However, with how strange he had been acting since his arrival, she could count today as the exception. She knew Asra shared the sentiment and had been hesitant to leave her alone with him, but with Faust having left to scout Earth, there wasn’t much he could do about the situation.

Presently, Julian stood in front of a tall shelf, inspecting the jars on it and muttering to himself. “Mandrake root, newt tongues, belladonna berries. What are these foul-looking things?” Without even turning towards her, he called, “Hey! Come tell me what these are!”

“Seriously?” Melodie scowled, gritting her teeth. “First of all, you’re a doctor! You should know what all those things are, even if not necessarily their applications in magic!” She focused on the shelf she had been perusing, picking up a jar of toad eyes. “Second of all, I have a name!”

“Of course I know what they are, and I know their applications in magic too!” Julian sounded quite huffy. “I’m sure I know them even better than you, in fact. Here, look!”

Begrudgingly, Melodie glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him tip the whole jar of belladonna berries into the concoction they were brewing. Her eyes widened, and she shouted out, “Julian, stop! You were meant to use a cup of mandrake root shreddings, not an entire jar of belladonna berries!”

Toad eyes abandoned, she raced over to check on the mixture. It had turned eggplant purple, which already wasn’t a good sign. Fearing the worst, Melodie scooped up some of the substance with a ladle. It was thick and sticky like slime, and she sighed, letting it drop back into the pot. “Well, this won’t just knock Lucio unconscious, this’ll  _ kill  _ him.” She forced herself to take deep breaths. “We’ll have to start all over again.”

“Why bother?” Melodie heard Julian scoff behind her, and just barely resisted the urge to strangle him.  _ Breathe, Melodie. _

“Because we need to deal with him as soon as possible?” she replied impatiently, unable to help the hint of irritation from creeping into her tone. “What’s gotten into you, Julian?”

“Why, I don’t know what you mean.” Suddenly, Julian’s tone was flat, carefully neutral. The hairs on the back of Melodie’s neck prickled, and slowly, she turned to face the demon. He had her fixed with a cold, predatory gaze, watching her every movement like a hawk.

_ Danger.  _ She was in danger, though she had no idea why. Her immediate instinct was to escape, but Julian was blocking the path to the door. Heart racing, she backed away as a realization dawned on her. “You’re… You’re not Julian at all, are you? Give my friend back!”

Not-Julian sneered before lunging at her. Caught off guard, Melodie just barely managed to dart out of the way, the attack upending the pot and spilling lethal potion everywhere. She scrambled toward the kitchen, hoping to find a weapon to defend herself with, magic instinctively crackling under her fingertips as she formed a shield bubble.  _ Brick walls. Iron armour. Diamond.  _ Anything strong and hard to break, she thought of it, feeding her energy into the spell desperately.

It turned out she had cast the spell not a moment too soon, hearing a ghastly screech of claws against metal and feeling the shield flicker. Daring to glance over her shoulder, Melodie saw that Not-Julian had changed; slitted eyes glaring at her, fangs bared as he brought sharp claws down on her shield once more. A forked tail lashed behind him, sleek black horns curving back over his head. His demonic form.

“What are you doing?!” Melodie exclaimed, struggling to keep the shield from breaking. She was a skilled magician and had no doubt of this fact; however, it seemed that the raw strength of a demon was enough to put pressure on her spell, no matter her talent.

“I won’t let you ruin my plans! I have to get my body back!” With a final swipe of his claws, Melodie’s shield shattered, and she was sent stumbling backwards by the shockwave. In an instant, Not-Julian was upon her, pinning her to the wall by the throat with one hand as his other came to rest above her heart. Both sets of claws dug in at the same time, leaving Melodie gasping for breath as piercing pain lanced through the points of contact. If she had the capacity to, she would’ve likely been thinking  _ surely you can’t die twice,  _ but as it stood, all that filled her mind was sheer  _ panic,  _ suffocating all other thought.

The claws at her heart raked downwards suddenly, and Melodie  _ screamed.  _ Blinded by pain, she reached out wildly, desperately trying to think of anything to defend herself, anything at all, her magic surging forwards all at once in a last ditch attempt to save herself.

Suddenly, there was a yell of pain, and the pressure on her vanished. She slid to the floor, choking, lifting a hand to her heart as she tried futilely to heal her wound. Pain sapped her magic and soon she gave up, just barely lifting her head to glance around. Through spotty vision, she saw Not-Julian cradling his left arm, which was bleeding profusely at the shoulder.  _ Did I do that?  _ She had to have done it, there was no other possible cause.

“Damn brat, you’ll pay for this!” Not-Julian spat, his voice full of hatred. “This isn’t over!” He made his way to the door, and Melodie could do nothing but watch him leave.

As the door swung shut behind him, Melodie’s chin dropped to her chest, head spinning. Through fading vision, she spotted the emerald necklace glinting against her skin, and with her remaining strength and a whispering voice, she tried to call for the only person she trusted who could reach her right now.

“As… ra…”

It was her last thought before everything went dark.

* * *

“Stupid cat,” Camio muttered to himself, preening his feathers from where the damn creature had ruffled them. Not only did she keep chasing him away from the only private lava lake he could find on account that  _ she and her family lived there,  _ now she had the gall to say his singing was worse than the tone-deaf raven’s. Honestly, the nerve of her! It wasn’t  _ his _ fault they couldn’t appreciate his magnificence and clear superiority.

He looked up curiously as he heard footsteps. No one usually came by his little hideaway, and Camio couldn’t blame them; it was a dark, dreary, damp cave! No one would want to live there, least of all his splendid self. But, because of how selfish that little cat was, he had no choice.

He recognized the figure as they came closer. Julian Devorak, the least annoying member of that household, but still pretty annoying. He was decked out in full demonic features, and his left arm was caked in blood. Camio couldn’t help but snicker at the sight. “Not as good of a doctor as you thought, Jules? Your little angel friends didn’t want to help you?”

Julian’s head snapped up, glaring at him. “How dare you! Do you even know who I am? If you’re so concerned with my health, then why don’t  _ you  _ direct me to a doctor?”

Camio considered. Normally, he’d never miss a chance to antagonize Julian, but there was no denying the doctor was acting off. In fact, maybe this was his big opportunity! “I’ll help you, but not for free. Cast aside that silly raven and bond with  _ me,  _ the clearly superior choice.” He puffed his chest out. “Then I’ll help you. Doesn’t that sound fantastic, Jules?”

“I am not this ‘Jules!’” Julian sounded heavily aggravated. “My name is Lucio, beloved Count of Vesuvia!”

Count Lucio of Vesuvia? Tales of him had reached Camio’s ears. Apparently, he’d disappeared several years ago, but here he was, in the flesh. Well, in a stolen body, but still. Camio grinned, a plan forming in his mind. “Ah yes, I’ve heard of you, Your Excellency. Of course I’ll help you out, but you know, that body you’re in? It’s bonded to a raven that’s a little too attached to good ol’ Doctor Jules. So, if you accept me as your familiar instead, you’re sure to achieve much more. I’m a big fan, you know.”

Lucio’s demeanor had gotten less and less irritated as Camio outlined his deal, and as he finished, he was smirking. “Well, that sounds like a good deal to me. Now, my reputation precedes me, but if I’m going to be working with you, I suppose I’ll need to know your name.”

_ Perfect.  _ “Camio. My name is Camio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, Julian.
> 
> Feel free to DM me on tumblr or send me asks!


	4. Blood of an Angel

Asra had been in the underground market of Kekilia, searching for rare and more than slightly illegal ritual components when he felt it. A shiver that ran from the top of his spine all the way down, cold fingers reaching into his soul, grasping and  _ squeezing.  _ It wasn’t  _ painful, _ exactly, but it was sickeningly unpleasant, like it was trying to rip out some vital part of him.

_ Melodie,  _ his subconscious whispered to him. It was this that kept Asra from simply tuning it out, as he easily could.  _ Melodie. _

_ She’s hurt. _

_ She needs you. _

Asra stumbled back from the stall he was perusing as the thought came to him. He knew he shouldn’t have left her alone with Julian, not when he was acting so strangely. Melodie was hurt and it was all his fault, he should’ve stayed with her, or at the very least recalled Faust to protect her, or–

_ This is all your fault.  _ That single thought reverberated in his brain, echoing in his skull like a chilling promise.

The unpleasant feeling in his soul transformed as he ran, warping into something that burned like an all-consuming fire within. This,  _ this  _ was painful, agonizing even, yet some part of him knew the pain didn’t belong to him. This was  _ Melodie’s _ hurt, laid bare to him, and–

_ This is all your fault. _

_ “Faust,”  _ he called out, and even in his own mind, his voice sounded shaky and weak.

A familiar presence stirred within his mind.  _ “Asra?” _

_ “I need you to find Nadia and Portia.”  _ He gasped at a sudden flare of pain around his heart, gritting his teeth against it.  _ “It’s important. Melodie’s hurt,” and it’s all my fault. _

Faust’s shock and worry transferred to him through their link.  _ “Friend okay?” _

It was a simple question. It shouldn’t have hurt so much.  _ “I don’t know,”  _ he responded, as tears began to burn his eyes. He wiped them away, his breathing becoming choked as he struggled to focus on the conversation.  _ “I don’t know.” _

Faust seemed to understand his current difficulty, thank the Archangels.  _ “Find friends!”  _ she promised, and not a moment later, her presence disappeared from Asra’s mind.

It was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he no longer had to force himself to focus on something that wasn’t Melodie, a curse because he no longer had any choice but to focus on Melodie’s pain. It twisted and writhed in his soul, and with every step he took, Asra could feel it grow stronger.

_ Please don’t let me be too late.  _ Too late. Too late for what? Asra wasn’t sure. Nothing was sure, except for the stinging wind that lashed his cheeks, and the fact that Melodie was hurt  _ and it was all his fault. _

As their cottage came into view on the horizon, the claws that had dug into his soul vanished like they were never there. It was a weight off his chest, and it should have allowed Asra to breathe freely, but instead it only choked him more.

The door swung open without protest, and Asra skidded to a halt. Purple potion was spilled across the floor from an upended pot, blood splattered across the ground, forming a trail to the kitchen. “Melodie!” he cried, pleading to the Ancients that it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

No response.

_ This is all your fault. _

It was all he could think as he rushed to the kitchen, heartbeat pounding in his ears. There he saw her, crumpled on the ground next to a cabinet, eyes closed and her entire front soaked with blood. Asra’s heart  _ stopped. _

_ You left her to a fate worse than death. This is all your fault. _

Moving on autopilot, Asra stumbled over to Melodie’s prone body, collapsing to his knees beside her. It was then that he noticed the faintest rise and fall of her chest, the barest sign of what passed for life in her case. Her breathing was shallow, but it was enough. She was still hanging on. He hadn’t lost her.

With shaking hands, he began to reach out to see the wound, then stopped as he realized where most of the blood seemed to be coming from. He’d have to take off her dress, which would mean…

He shook himself.  _ Focus, Asra. It’s to save her, I think she’ll understand.  _ Carefully, he attempted to slip her left sleeve off her shoulder, before quickly realizing it wasn’t going to work. He stood, fetching a small pocket knife and a wet cloth before returning, carefully cutting away the bloodied fabric.

The wound was worse than he had initially thought; five long gashes that looked like they had been made by claws raked down from the left side of her chest to her abdomen, like something had tried to rip out her heart. Fresh blood and pus still oozed from the injury, and Asra had to force down the urge to retch. He was pretty sure that Melodie’s wound needed stitches, but thankfully, he had a way around that.

Asra quickly wiped as much of the blood away as he could, then pressed his left hand at the top of the injury, above her heart. He envisioned needle and thread carefully closing up Melodie’s wound, pouring his magic into the spell, and sure enough, her skin began to sew itself back together with invisible thread. Five jagged, ghastly scars were left in its wake, and no matter how hard Asra tried, they wouldn’t fade.

Asra frowned, but now that Melodie was out of the danger zone, his heart rate had begun to calm and he reasoned that if the scars wouldn’t go away, there was no point expending magic trying to make them. He’d cleaned most of the blood away from the actual wound site, but she was still covered in other places. She’d need a bath, and once again Asra had to remind himself Melodie probably wouldn’t begrudge him for doing what needed to be done.

He laid Melodie on the couch as he went to draw the bath, quickly returning as soon as the temperature was right. She still hadn’t stirred, so cautiously, as if she were made of glass, Asra bundled her up in his arms. He carried her out to the bathroom, laying her down in the water before getting rid of her ruined dress and undergarments.

_ “Found friends!”  _ Faust’s chirruping voice filled his head as he carefully lathered Melodie’s hair in shampoo.

_ “That’s great, Faust.”  _ A tired smile found its way onto Asra’s face; this whole ordeal had exhausted him.  _ “Melodie’s going to be okay. I’m giving her a bath right now. If you girls arrive before I’m done, wait in the living room, alright?” _

_ “Living room!”  _ Faust confirmed, her joy and relief overflowing through their link.  _ “Will wait.” _

The conversation closed, and Asra turned his full attention back to washing Melodie’s hair. Eventually, he was satisfied with Melodie’s state of cleanliness, lifting her from the bath and drying her with the fluffiest towel he could find, before wrapping her in another slightly less fluffy towel to carry her back into the main building.

The living room was spotless, no signs of potion or blood spills anywhere. Casting his gaze around, he spotted the three women by the fireplace and chuckled. “Thanks. I don’t know when I would’ve gotten around to cleaning that mess up.”

“Don’t thank us, what are friends for?” Portia replied. “Now, are you going to stand there and talk ‘til the cows come home, or are you going to get your girlfriend settled in bed with some, oh, I don’t know,  _ actual clothes?” _

“She’s not my–” Asra stopped himself. Portia was right, he had more important matters to tend to. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

He headed inside the bedroom, quickly dressing Melodie in the thickest woollen sweater he could find and some pajama pants, as well as cute little socks with tiny snakes printed on them. Pulling the blankets up to her chest, Asra noted that like this, pink curls splayed across the pillow, fluffy from being washed, there was no obvious sign that anything had happened to the woman he had grown to care for so much.

He wanted to kiss her forehead. He really did. But this wasn’t like before; a kiss was entirely unnecessary, and there was no way for Melodie to consent to it, so he refrained.

A soft sigh fell past Asra’s lips, and he gently cupped her cheek instead. “Please wake up soon, Melodie,” he said softly. “I was worried I’d lost you. You don’t know how much you mean to me.”

“Watch friend!”

Asra startled, pulling his hand back as he glanced over his shoulder. Faust stood in the doorway, and her meaning clicked in his head. “You’re volunteering to watch her?” Faust vigorously bobbed her head. “That’s a huge help, thanks.” No part of him really wanted to leave Melodie, but he had no choice. He had to explain what he’d seen to Nadia and Portia.

Faust took her place at Melodie’s side, and Asra headed out to the living room. Both women turned to look at him, and he sighed. “Well… you’ve probably guessed by now, but given that Ilya was acting strangely and is no longer here, along with the fact Melodie’s wound looked to have been inflicted by claws…”

“Don’t say that!!” Portia interrupted, tears immediately brimming in her eyes. “Ilya can’t have done that! He wouldn’t have! He’s a doctor, he wants to  _ save _ lives, not end them! Besides, why would he have attacked Melodie? She’s his friend!”

“Portia, I agree that while this behaviour would be uncharacteristic of your brother, the evidence speaks a different story,” Nadia began in a level tone.

“Screw the evidence!” Portia shouted, the tears flowing freely now. “Ilya didn’t do this. I know it!”

As Nadia and Portia continued to ‘debate’ (an action which consisted mostly of Portia shouting at Nadia) about whether or not Julian was the one to attack Melodie, Asra turned the situation over in his mind. Portia was once again correct, there really  _ was  _ no reason for Julian to have attacked Melodie.

Wait. Lucio had returned, but without a physical form, which meant…

“You’re both right,” he said suddenly, startling both of them into looking at him.

Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate, Asra?”

“The  _ body  _ that attacked Melodie was Ilya’s, I’m pretty sure,” Asra explained. “But the person in control of the body wasn’t Ilya. Therefore, Ilya didn’t attack her. Not exactly.”

“How could it  _ not  _ be Ilya?” Portia demanded.

Nadia seemed to pick up faster on what he was implying. “You are suggesting that Lucio somehow stole Julian’s body?”

Asra nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“How in Hell would he do that?” Portia asked, her tearful anger giving way to just plain anger.

“There’s a lot of ways, and I honestly couldn’t tell you which one he might have used with this little information,” Asra sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If you were to track him down, that might be the best way for you to get answers.”

“Why us?” Portia questioned. “You’re the one with tracking magic.”

Nadia rose. “Portia, he must look after Melodie. Asra, consider it done.”

“Oh, right!” Portia’s eyes widened. “I’d totally blanked on that for a sec. Yeah, I’m with Nadi!”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Asra couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks. I know I can count on you two.”

* * *

Melodie stirred, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she blearily sat up. A quick glance around told her that she was in bed in the cottage, with no idea why she was there or how she had gotten there.

The memories all came flooding back to her at once. Someone had stolen Julian’s body, and with it, attacked her. Her recollections of the event were hazy, but she was certain of that much. She’d collapsed in the kitchen, and with what little strength remained, called out for Asra.

He must have arrived home and found her. There was no other explanation for why she wasn’t lying in a bloody mess in the kitchen. Glancing down, she noticed that her dress was in perfect condition, with no signs of any rips or tears. That didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like she had fought Not-Julian naked; there should have been some damage done to her dress.

“Good morning, Melodie.” She glanced up as a familiar, sweet voice filled her ears. Asra watched her from the doorway, curiosity sparkling in his gaze, one arm folded while the other rested under his chin. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Melodie swallowed, fingers twisting in the blankets. “What… What happened?”

“You were attacked.” Asra approached her, still with that curious look in his eyes.

“I know.” Melodie eyed him warily. Asra could be simple and plain with his words when he wanted to, sure, but this… this was unlike him. It was almost like he was avoiding something, being vague on purpose. “By something that looked like Julian, but wasn’t.”

At these words, Asra seemed to light up slightly, nodding in approval. “Very good, Melodie. You’re rather skilled at seeing things for what they truly are.”

“I am?” Melodie shook her head. “I don’t really think so. I mean, I don’t know who  _ really  _ attacked me.”

Asra’s response was a chuckle, which caught her off guard. “Is that so? I think that you know that isn’t true. Just like you know something about this place.” He tilted his head, watching her with an obvious air of anticipation, and Melodie couldn’t help but feel like she was being tested.

_ I know something about this place…  _ She cast her gaze around. Asra had greeted her with a ‘good morning’ but she knew it had been afternoon when she collapsed. While it was possible she had been unconscious throughout the night, that didn’t seem to fit quite right. Combined with the immaculate state of her dress… she quickly checked underneath it. There was no wound nor scar on her chest, just an expanse of unharmed skin. 

“This is a dream,” Melodie realized, turning her focus back to her companion. “And you… You aren’t really Asra, are you?”

‘Asra’ beamed, looking very pleased. “Once again, very good, Melodie. I was correct in my assessment of your capability to see past illusions.” Before her eyes, he began to change, quickly assuming a different form. Orange, white-tipped hair fell down to the stranger’s shoulders in curls, a blaze of darker skin from their forehead to their nose decorating a tanned face. They were dressed in flowing red robes, covering a simple white shirt with a purple collar. Only their eyes remained the same, exactly like Asra’s, glimmering with a sly mischief that was both familiar and foreign to Melodie.

Melodie figured she should probably be on guard, but she sensed no ill intent from the stranger. Some part of her whispered that this was just like when she met Asra. “Who… Who are you?”

They gave a short bark of laughter. “Names are fleeting things, an attempt to classify the ephemeral… but when a need for such thing arises, I like to call myself Magus.”

Magus… magic. Now that Melodie thought about it, they bore a strong resemblance to a certain fox-like figure on one of her tarot cards. “You’re the Magician.”

Magus inclined his head. “That is the name given to me by humans, yes.”

“But… why are you here?” That, perhaps, was the biggest mystery of all. “I thought I understood that Elira… the Fool was my patron.”

“And on that account, you are quite correct,” Magus confirmed, eyes twinkling. “It is true that we normally only show ourselves to those we are affiliated with. However, it seems that you bear a link with my greatest protege, Asra…” He pointed a finger at the emerald hanging from her neck. “In that necklace of yours.”

“My… My necklace?” Instinctively, Melodie grabbed it. The gemstone and metal were warm beneath her fingers. “I… I don’t understand. This is just jewelry, a gift from Asra, it can’t possibly– oh!” Her eyes widened as the realization struck. “Asra… imbued it with his magic.”

Magus chuckled. “More than just his magic, dear Melodie. Half of his soul is in your hands.” He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “He trusts you a great deal.”

“Half of his… soul?” Melodie glanced down at the glittering emerald, struggling to process this information. “But… why?” And yet… it made sense. The inexplicable link she shared with Asra, it was because of his unassuming gift. It housed half of his soul– of  _ course  _ it would be drenched in his magic.

Magus hummed, closing his eyes. “The nature of emotions, be they human, angel, demon, cealian, or something else entirely is fickle. I doubt even Asra himself could quite tell you what led to his decision.”

Melodie swallowed, trying to focus again. “Okay, but… is that all you wanted to tell me? Test me on my ability to see past illusions, and tell me that I’m essentially guarding half of Asra’s soul?”

“More or less.” He gave her a nonchalant smile, with the faintest hint of a smirk. “When you awaken, tell Asra hello from me. Oh, and do try not to worry him too much. The poor angel deserves whatever relief he can get before the storm rolls in.”

“The storm? Are you talking about Lucio? Do you know something? Tell me what’s going on!” Melodie demanded, only to be met with a cryptic grin.

“Sweet dreams, Melodie.”

She didn’t get a chance to protest before she was falling, colors blurring and fading as she slipped back into an (ironically) dreamless sleep.

* * *

Rana, Portia thought to herself, was a very quaint place.

Not that that was a bad thing. The riverside village was a lot more pleasant than some of the backwater towns in Hell, that much was obvious from just a glance. There just… wasn’t much to draw the eye. There was a cluster of identical cottages around what appeared to be a firepit in the center of the village, and a watermill churned quietly away in the background. The surrounding fields had been transformed into gardens by the residents, but that appeared to be all Rana had to offer.

“So!” She clapped her hands together. “Your magician lives here, Nadi?”

“Yes.” Nadia paused on the edge of the village, casting her gaze around, searching. “Her name is Amelianne Delaney, recently deceased. The plague took her a month ago. I recall that she desired to live in Astrocrux, but the High Court denied her request.” Her lip curled. “Regardless, she has gained a reputation in these parts for her magical talents. I suppose we shall see them for ourselves.”

“Alright then!” Portia gave a bright smile. “I’m eager to see this. So, where is she?”

Nadia frowned, still scanning the village. “I confess I’m not quite sure. All these houses are identical, and while I have reason to believe she would have a garden, that hardly narrows it down.”

As if in answer to Nadia’s words, one of the cottage doors opened, and a woman strolled out. She was dressed in a maxi dress of pale green silk with gold trim swirling across her bust and pearls lining the short, off-the-shoulder sleeves. She was barefoot and held a woven basket of apples beneath her arm, overall giving the impression of an elegant wood nymph.

Everything else about her spoke a different story. Messy ginger hair fell down to her shoulders, a wild spark in her leaf-green eyes. A lazy grin curled across the lips of a tanned face. Heart-shaped earrings adorned her ears, and a tattoo of a rose curled around the column of her throat, three hearts decorating her right shoulder.

“Ah, it seems the person we have been seeking found us first,” Nadia chuckled, before calling out. “Amelianne!”

The woman turned. She raised an eyebrow when she spotted the pair, but trotted over nonetheless, bowing slightly as she reached them. “Lady Nadia, it’s been a while. Who’s your friend?” Her gaze flitted to Portia.

“I’m Portia!” the demon introduced herself. “And… you’re Amelianne, right? That  _ is  _ what Nadi said?”

Amelianne’s eyebrows arched higher. “Not only are you on a first-name basis with one of the Satrinavas, you call her by a nickname?” She shook her head, chuckling. “Yeah, Amelianne’s my name. If you’re a friend of Lady Nadia’s, call me Amelia.”

“Is there history between you two?” Portia looked between the angel and human, unable to help feeling slightly bemused.

“Merely court business,” Nadia assured. “I attempted to argue her case to live in Astrocrux, though as you can see, it went nowhere.”

“So, how can I help you ladies?” Amelianne asked. “I doubt a Satrinava and her friend would have reason to visit a place like Rana on a social call. And while I like to think my fruits and veggies are the best around, I’m sure they don’t hold a dime to what they’ve got in Kekilia.”

“Rana is a fine enough place, just neglected by the High Court,” Nadia dismissed. “I hope to change that someday. But you are quite correct. We came here to seek out your assistance, Amelianne.”

“My assistance?” If Nadia didn’t have Amelianne’s full focus before, she did now. Portia couldn’t help but admire how easily the angel could command someone’s attention while remaining so polite and dignified. “If it’s not for apples, it must be for magic. And please, my lady, I’ve told you before, just call me Amelia.”

“Amelia,” Nadia conceded with a dip of her head. “Portia and I are on the hunt for a quarry of an… elusive nature. We require a tracking spell.”

“A tracking spell for you, huh?” Amelianne’s playful demeanor seemed to slip slightly, a curious look coming over her features. “With all due respect, my lady, could your powers not locate your prey?”

“Though it is true my particular abilities will render him unable to hide, they are of little use without locating him first,” Nadia explained. “That is where you come in, Amelia, if you should agree.”

_ Nadia’s abilities?  _ Portia knew she had them, of course. In addition to typical angel abilities, Nadia possessed the gift of prophetic dreams. She had no idea how that could possibly help them in the hunt for Lucio, though. It sounded like Nadia had another special ability, but if that was true… why didn’t Portia know about it when this random human magician did?

“Tracking spells are hard without an item from the person you’re searching for,” Amelianne mused, then grinned. “Of course, you don’t get a reputation as the best magician around these parts by letting that stop you. Come inside, let’s see if we can’t sniff out your prey.”

Amelianne led the two women inside her house. It was what one might consider an organized mess, with various bottles and jars off their shelves, blankets and furs strewn across the floor. A single bed stood pressed up underneath a window, which struck Portia as odd considering there was a door leading to what was presumably a larger room.

Her suspicions were confirmed when their host pushed the door open and led them inside, though she quickly realized why the bed was in the main living room. A large table covered in a royal purple cloth was the main centerpiece of the room, chalk dust and spilled ingredients marking out faded arcane symbols. If she had thought there were a lot of spell reagents in the main room, it didn’t compare to the amount in the backroom– shelves lined every wall, filled to bursting with various herbs and ingredients.

“Tracking a person without an object that belongs to them is more of a ritual than a spell, but I can handle it, no problem,” Amelianne explained, waving a hand over the tablecloth. There was a small  _ poof  _ of green and orange smoke, and suddenly the tablecloth was as good as new. “So, who is it you’re hunting?”

“Count Lucio of Vesuvia,” Nadia answered, causing Amelianne to pause in grabbing a bottle of amethyst dust.

“So you’re telling me the bastard’s definitely dead?” she said after a moment, plucking the bottle off the shelf and beginning to sprinkle it on the table. “Good riddance, I say. I’m guessing he went to Hell. Please tell me he went to Hell.”

Portia exchanged an uneasy glance with Nadia. Neither of them was quite sure how to explain that Lucio wasn’t exactly dead, and even if he was, Hell was less ‘eternal torment’ these days and more ‘rehabilitation.’

“It’s… complicated,” Nadia said after a moment, her tone laced with infinite hesitation.

“Really complicated,” Portia agreed quickly. “Best to leave it to the pros, Amelia!”

Amelianne quirked an eyebrow, swapping the amethyst dust for several iolite stones and placing those at the four points of the symbol she’d created. “Aww, that means there’s something you’re not telling me, I know it. You really can’t tell me?” She closed her eyes and outstretched her palms over the ritual circle, humming as she concentrated.

“It’s a rather unfortunate situation, I’m afraid,” Nadia replied grimly.

“But rest assured, by the time we’re done with him, if he wasn’t dead already he definitely will be!” Portia added, thinking of what Asra had said. Lucio had stolen her brother’s body and attacked one of her friends with it. There was no way in Hell she was letting him go unscathed.

Amelianne laughed. “Well, that’s good, even if I really wish you two would tell me the big hush-hush secret.” Before either of them could reply, the dust began to spark, the iolites glowing. A black-and-white image appeared above the ritual circle, flickering several times before solidifying.

Nadia and Portia leaned in to get a closer look. The projection was of a long, dark hallway, lit by torches and lined with portraits of the same five figures– Dove, Pandora, Grima, Justin and Lucifer himself, the Ancient demons. A demonic Julian stalked down the corridor, eyes set on something ahead.

Nadia frowned at the image. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize that place. Is it somewhere in Hell, Portia?”

Portia ransacked her brain, trying to think. To her surprise, she did recognize the place. “It’s Lucifer’s wing in the ruined palace,” she answered, incredulous. “I can’t imagine why he’d be there though. It’s been closed off for millennia– everyone says it’s cursed.”

“How very pleasant.” Nadia’s lip curled, her eyes narrowing. “Knowing the stories of Lucifer, I hardly blame your people for assuming such a dreary place would hold malevolent energies.”

“There’s a lot of stories about it, that’s for sure,” Portia agreed. “Rumours say that someone tried to burn it down years ago, but only a large portrait caught aflame.”

If at all possible, Nadia’s obvious distaste grew. “How absolutely wonderful. Perhaps after our hunt we should take a vacation there.”

“Oh, definitely, it’d be loads of fun,” Portia exclaimed in mock excitement. “While we’re at it, we could visit the catacombs, look at the bones of all the servants Lucifer sentenced to death just because he didn’t like them, or watch some gladiator fights!” She paused, considering. “Well, actually I think I’d prefer to participate in that last one.”

“You shall do no such thing, Portia,” Nadia interrupted sharply.

“Gladiator fights, huh?” Amelianne opened her eyes, dropping her hands as the projection vanished. There was a sparkle in her gaze. “Are you sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m quite sure,” Nadia replied firmly. “Thank you for your assistance, Amelia, but we should get going. There is no telling what Lucio may be capable of if we linger too long.”

Amelianne waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Go on, go save the world and all that! But try not to die in the process. That would kind of put a damper on the whole thing.”

“Believe me, we have every intent to try and avoid such a fate,” Nadia replied.

* * *

“Well, doesn’t this place look wonderfully ominous?” Nadia commented, staring up at the dark, gloomy palace that loomed above them. Getting there in the first place had been its own special kind of hell, requiring lots of quick thinking from Portia to avoid being seen too much, and some sharp words from Nadia when that failed and more archaic-minded demons had confronted them about the angel in their midst. There might have also been some swords pointed at people in particularly dire situations. It was fine.

“I don’t know, I still think it’d be a great vacation spot,” Portia joked, before her expression grew serious. “Here’s hoping we can find Lucio, get our answers, get my brother’s body back, and get out.”

“That would be the ideal sequence of events, and yet I fear it will not be so simple,” Nadia lamented, approaching the grand doors of the palace. Two statues stood guard on either side, depicting a monstrous figure with goat horns, hooves, and claws– Lucifer. The stone imitations were grotesque, to put it as lightly as possible, and Portia quickly decided she’d really rather not meet the guy in person.

The interior of the palace was no more sightly. Back in the day, Portia was sure it must have been resplendent, an artwork to marvel at, if a bit gaudy. Now, furnished with peeling paint, cracked and overgrown stonework, and more of the horrific statues with equally horrific expressions, it was anything but.

“The ancient king of demons enjoyed his displays of vanity, it seems,” Nadia commented, curling her lip as she looked around the throne room. “How utterly repulsive.”

“Thaaaat’s Lucifer for you,” Portia muttered, knowing without seeing her reflection how disgruntled she must look. She clapped her hands together, casting her gaze around. “Right, well, if I was a super powerful demon with a penchant for cruelty, where would my wing be?”

A wry smile found its way onto Nadia’s face. “While that is certainly one way to approach this problem, I believe I may know of an easier alternative.” She frowned in concentration, a strange glow Portia had never seen before lighting up her eyes. She looked around, her gaze landing on a more fearsome statue with fangs bared in a snarl. “Ah, there we are.”

“Nadi?” Portia asked hesitantly. “I don’t see anything.”

Nadia’s smile turned surprisingly indulgent. “Ah, of course. My apologies, Portia.” She laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder, and immediately, the throne room warped. If it was unsightly before, now it was downright nightmarish. Blood trickled from the statues’ eyes, a strange black ooze dripping from their mouths. Long scratches were gouged into the walls, undoubtedly from claws, and skeletons lay collapsed around the room, shadowy chains binding their wrists and ankles. “You should be able to see this place for what it truly is now.”

A shiver ran down Portia’s spine. “Well, it seems King Lucifer liked his horror stories more than I had thought,” she remarked nervously, trying to keep the mood light.

She was sure she didn’t imagine the hand on her shoulder giving her the faintest squeeze. “I will agree that he could have perhaps hired a better interior decorator,” Nadia said, looking down at Portia with a comforting smile and a warm look in her eyes. “Still, try to look past these gruesome sights. Do you see it?”

Portia looked back to where Nadia had been focused, and sure enough, there it was: bloodied footprints–well, more like hoof prints, honestly–that led behind the statue to the left of the throne. She approached and gave it a curious push; aside from the slight screech of stone against stone, it moved without protest, revealing a dark passageway lit by green fire torches. “Well, I think this might be the goat’s lair.”

“Yes, it would certainly seem that way,” Nadia agreed, approaching the entrance with obvious trepidation. “Though it does seem… unlike the area Amelia showed us.”

Portia gave a thoughtful ‘hmm.’ “It’s true there’s a distinct lack of ugly portraits, and the torches are green rather than blue, but I mean, is there a better place to start looking?”

To her surprise, Nadia gave a short laugh. “No, I suppose there isn’t. You’re quite correct. Shall we, then?”

Portia giggled. “We shall!”

They made their way into the gloom. The silence was tense as the darkness wrapped around them, and it was impossible to tell how long they spent in there. Eventually, however, they came to a pair of large stone double doors, completely unassuming if not for the spatters of blood on them.

“Well, this looks like it could be our place!” Portia announced, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. She tentatively gave a push on the left hand door, expecting it to remain stubbornly in place, but instead, it sloooooowly opened.

“It would seem that your assumption was correct once again, Portia,” Nadia noted. The corridor beyond was more familiar to them, flickering blue torches casting light on portraits that were even more gaudy in person. “And I imagine that our prey hides in the room back there.”

It was a reasonable guess, considering the trail led to the red double doors at the end of the hallway. Portia wondered why Lucifer had made what was presumably his bedroom so hard to find, then shrugged it off. He wasn’t regarded as the most fearsome Ancient for no reason, and hey, she could get behind a matching aesthetic.

“A demon count lurking in the darkest depths of the spookiest palace ever, what could go wrong?” Portia commented, already walking towards the doors.

“A great many things, I’m sure.” Nadia’s tone held the faintest hint of amusement, and when Portia looked back, she saw the corners of her lips upturned in a smile. “But we will face them all in stride, will we not?”

“Oh, definitely,” Portia agreed. “I have  _ plenty  _ to say to the bastard who stole Ilya’s body.” She really did. Every spare moment on their journey here, she’d been practicing her monologue in her head, making sure her ‘the-reason-you-suck’ speech was as perfect as it could be.

“Well, let’s not delay.” Nadia rested a hand on the doorknob, and the door swung open without protest.

Portia stormed into the chamber, hands on her hips. “Alright, Lucio, you goat’s ass! You’re going to give my brother’s body back  _ right now  _ or so help me, I will–” She stopped as she properly looked around. The room was empty. She gave a frustrated sigh, shoulders slumping. “Look before you leap, Portia. You don’t need to compensate for your idiot brother’s absence.”

“To be fair, logic would have dictated he would be in here,” Nadia reassured her, stepping into the room. “Of course, that begs the question of where Lucio may be.” Her face tightened in a scowl. “Perhaps the coward is hiding.”

Portia glanced around the room once more, her eyes alighting on a gold-framed portrait of Lucifer crushing a suspiciously humanoid skull under one hoof. The faintest red light pulsated from it, no doubt brought into view by Nadia’s sight. “Well, Nadi, I would guess he took a trick out of the oldest history books,” she mused, pointing it out, then stopped. “Well, actually, come to think of it, I guess he would have written those history books himself, huh?”

Nadia approached the portrait. “Ah, yes, I see it too. I must say, this portrait is rather… interesting.” Her observation was stated with all the enthusiasm of a widow talking about her ex-husband who had died under mysterious circumstances. “I wonder what in the worlds must have been going through Lucifer’s mind when he commissioned this.”

Portia tilted her head. “Well, I’d say probably something along the lines of ‘Make me look even scarier than I am in person! What’s that? You want me standing on the corpse of one of my enemies? Good, but I think I can make it better. Picture this; I’m standing on a human skull. Terrifying, right? People will run screaming when they see it.’”

There it was again, a little laugh from Nadia, tinkling like music to Portia’s ears. “I suppose a demon would know best, and that does sound rather accurate. Still, are you ready to uncover what mysteries dwell behind this ugly thing?”

“ _ Hell _ yeah I am!” Portia exclaimed. “On the count of three?”

Nadia inclined her head. “On the count of three. One, two…”

“...three!” Both women gripped the portrait frame, tugging. It swung outwards like a door, and peering inside, Portia saw what looked like a ritualistic shrine room, large and rectangular in shape. Six crackling braziers adorned the room, three pushed against each wall. Rooms like this were very outdated, and she’d only heard about them in stories and legends. Still, with the silver, blood-splattered altar at the front of the room, situated at the hooves of a larger-than-life statue of Lucifer, she couldn’t imagine what else it could be.

A familiar figure knelt at the altar, and Portia felt a surge of anger in her veins.  _ “You!” _

Lucio stood, turning to face them. His cocky smirk looked extremely out of place on Julian’s features. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt royalty in the middle of important business? I’ll forgive you though, just for the pretty angel.” He winked at Nadia.

Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “Even if you were not trying to execute a mad plan, you would be far beneath me, Lucio. I suggest you do not try it.”

“A mad plan?” Lucio’s expression twisted into a scowl. “How dare you! You should be honored that someone as great as myself–”

“I have met many far greater and far more tasteful than you,” Nadia interrupted. Portia could see that her patience was quickly wearing thin. “Enough of this. We have come seeking answers, and we do not intend to leave without them.”

“We also don’t intend to leave without my brother’s body!” Portia piped up angrily. “It isn’t yours. You don’t even deserve a body!”

Lucio whirled on Portia, fury written across his face. “Silence! I will not tolerate this disrespect any longer.” He snatched up a sword which lay across the altar. Neither woman had seen it at first, but now, its bloodstained blade flashing before their eyes, it was hard to miss.

Nadia seemed entirely unimpressed and unfazed, taking a step forward. She held out her hand, and a pure white light began to glow beneath it, quickly coalescing into the form of a sword. Portia had always wondered why supposedly just, upright angels had the ability to create weapons from nothing, but right now, she wasn’t complaining.

Nadia didn’t lift her weapon just yet, merely holding it at the ready. “I recommend that you do not start a fight you cannot win,” she said coolly. “This is your last warning, Lucio.”

Lucio snarled before charging at Nadia. She neatly blocked his strike before deftly following up with a few cuts of her own, the shrill screech of metal against metal ringing through the air as he parried. Watching Nadia fight was more like watching a dance, her every step and thrust carefully poised, her elegant and graceful movements a sharp contrast to Lucio’s passion and force, a thundering storm of violence.

However, it quickly became apparent that while Nadia may have been the prettier combatant, Lucio was not unskilled, and they each met each other blow for blow, neither able to gain the upper hand. Portia realized that if they were going to win this anytime soon, she was going to have to step in.

The thought that she didn’t have a weapon didn’t even cross her mind as she leapt into the fray, attempting to pummel Lucio with her fists. He saw it coming and dodged to the side, but it distracted him just long enough for Nadia to advance on him, a nimble cut to his sword arm causing his weapon to clatter to the ground.

Nadia pointed her sword at Lucio’s throat, her eyes cold and hard. “You are defeated, Lucio. Are you ready to talk?”

Lucio bared his fangs, backing up to stand by one of the braziers. Nadia continued to advance as he did so, not allowing him space to breathe. “That’s impossible, I will never be beaten!” he snapped, despite the fact that he was very obviously beaten. Disarmed with a sword pointed at his throat, there was nowhere for him to go.

That was how it seemed, anyway, until Lucio tipped the brazier over with a kick. The flames caught on the carpet immediately, and Portia couldn’t help but yelp, backing away from the fire. She saw Nadia’s focus slip as well, her eyes flicking over to the blaze, and that was when Lucio struck. He lunged forwards and dug his claws into Nadia’s shoulders, throwing her against the altar where she collapsed in a heap, the air obviously knocked from her lungs.

_ “NADIA!”  _ Portia ran towards the altar, completely disregarding the flames, but she wasn’t fast enough. She could do nothing but watch in horror as Lucio slipped a dagger from out of his sleeve, plunging it into Nadia’s right rib cage.

Portia had never,  _ ever  _ heard Nadia sound anything less than dignified. Now, however, the scream that was torn from the angel’s throat was nothing but raw  _ agony,  _ blood streaming down her side and freshly painting the altar crimson. Lucio ripped out the dagger, and Portia saw red.

When she came to, she was kneeling at Nadia’s side, blood splashed down the front of her dress, staining her… claws. She blinked, registering the sudden sensation of a cat’s tail flicking behind her, and the weight of ram’s horns on her head. Lucio was nowhere to be seen, but his discarded dagger lay beside the altar.

“Nadi!” she gasped as soon as she fully returned to her senses. Her claws vanished as she desperately pressed a hand to the stab wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “H-Hang in there, I’ll get help!”

Red eyes fluttered open, and Nadia groaned in pain. “Portia…” She coughed, specks of blood staining her lips. “You must… leave. Now.” Her tone held none of its usual authority. Her head rolled onto her shoulders.

“I’m not leaving you, Nadi!” With effort, Portia heaved the barely conscious angel onto her shoulder. Strangely, rather than spreading like they should have, the flames from earlier had died on their own, as if snuffed by some unseen magic. “I’ll… I’ll take you to Asra’s! His– his magic can heal you, Nadi, you’re not dying on me!” She was rambling, panic taking over her every rational thought.

“Nazali.” The whisper was so faint that Portia almost didn’t catch it.

“Nazali? One of your sisters?” That’s right, Nazali was a doctor. They’d know what to do! “You’re right, I’ll fetch Nazali, and they’ll help you, Nadi, you’ll see!”

No response. Nadia had finally slipped into unconsciousness. Swallowing down her fear, Portia made a beeline for the exit as fast as her legs would carry her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I have nothing to say for myself, I'm so sorry Nadi. Feel free to send me a DM!

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is princess-of-arcana! Feel free to come yell at me about the story or send me questions about the AU, I'm happy to answer and I'm about as intimidating as a kitten.


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